Harry Potter: The Lone Traveller
by The Professional
Summary: After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and ‘do things right’, something goes wrong...
1. PROLOGUE: Nothing Left to Live for

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past' (available on among other sites).

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**PROLOGUE: Nothing left to live for.**

A startled cat disappeared into the rubble of a nearby house as a dark figure walked down the ruined street.

The figure in the leather jacket stopped in front of one of the ruined houses. Bending down, he picked up a piece of metal that had once been nailed to the gate. Looking at the metallic representation of the number 4, the figure walked up the path towards where the front door used to be. Dropping the metallic 4, the figure stepped through the doorway and sighed. Harry James Potter had never expected, or intended, to ever return to Number 4 Privet Drive. Yet here he was, wading through the rubble of the house that had once belonged to his Aunt and Uncle, about to end his life.

Clearing away bits of plaster and charred wood, Harry began to set up the prisms. As he did this, a voice in the back of his mind started to speak up.

"_You do realise the chances of this little scheme of yours actually working aren't that great, right?" _said the voice.

"_There's still a chance…_" thought Harry.

"_And there's an even bigger chance you'll just die,"_ replied the voice. "_I mean, face it, the chances of your essence actually being sent back in time and merging with your past self are miniscule_."

"_So what am I supposed to do?"_ Harry retorted. "_There's nothing left. Hogwarts is a pile of rubble, The Burrow was reduced to ashes, Grimmauld Place is a ruin just like here, everyone I've ever known and cared about is dead. Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Mr & Mrs Weasley, Hagrid, Sirius, Dumbledore, Luna, Neville, Ginny…_"

He stopped in mid-thought, knowing that the voice of doubt had no answer.

As he placed the last prism in place, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the broken mirror that had once hung proudly on the wall beside a family picture of the three Dursleys, which also now lay on the floor. Looking at his reflection, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the boy who used to cover his scar with his fringe and hope that no-one would recognise 'The Boy Who Lived'. Harry looked at his reflection and sighed – that Harry Potter was gone. In his place stood a man who had fulfilled his destiny and defeated the man who had caused all the destruction around him but had lost everything in the process. He took a picture from his pocket and compared it to his reflection. His hair was a lot longer and ragged, like Sirius's had been, his face was marked by numerous Hex scars and his once brilliant green eyes were no longer as bright. The colour in his eyes had been dulled. _No one should ever see what these eyes have seen,_ thought Harry.

Getting back to his feet, Harry checked the calculations before casting an Energising Charm on the prisms. The crystals began to glow, sending out threads of light as they did so. When the threads of light met, a bubble of energy formed around Harry. He could feel the power behind the field as it pulsed around him. The gateway was almost open. Now there was just one thing left to do. Harry took one last look at the picture in his hand. Beside his younger self sat a girl whose death still felt like an open wound. Ginevra Molly Weasley had died right before his eyes – he had failed to keep her safe, just as he had failed everyone else. _But not this time,_ thought Harry._ This time, it's gonna be different._ He took one last look at the last picture of himself and Ginny that had ever been taken before putting it back in his jacket pocket. As he did so, he heard a beep come from his watch. Looking at it, he saw that it had just gone past midnight. Holding down one of the buttons on the side, he smirked as he was reminded of the date.

The field's power began to peak around Harry, who had just turned 30, as he held out his wand right in front of his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Harry uttered the fatal words.

"Avada Kedavra."

The green light flashed before his eyes. Harry felt a sudden chill flow through him and sunk to his knees. _That wasn't so bad,_ thought Harry as he watched the bubble around him begin to destabilise. However, Harry immediately realised that he shouldn't have been able to think that. At this point, he should have been dead and his memories should be hurtling backwards through time.

But they weren't.

_Something's gone wrong, _was Harry's last thought as the field collapsed inwards and engulfed him.


	2. CHAPTER 1 The Future?

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER ONE – The Future?**

Harry gasped as he tried to get to his feet as a feeling of numbness caressed every fibre of his body and everything he saw was a blur.

After a few seconds, the numbness and blurry vision began to dissipate. Unfortunately, as this happened, a new sensation overcame Harry. To say that this new sensation was uncomfortable would have been an understatement. Trying not to yell out in horror or pain, Harry could feel something changing him. His body felt as if it were being contorted and twisted into a new shape. He felt the muscles on his arms shrink while he felt as if some unseen hand was scrubbing his face with a scouring pad. However, to his immense relief, the 'transformation' soon stopped just as suddenly as it had started. Staggering to his feet, Harry tried to gather his thoughts. _What the hell happened? _he asked himself. _And where the hell am I?_

Looking around, Harry could now see that he was no longer among the ruins of Privet Drive. Instead, he was in what looked like a hotel lobby. The lobby was empty but it seemed intact. _Looks like Tom missed this place_, mused Harry as he picked up his wand and began to walk through the deserted lobby. While doing so, he noticed that his jacket seemed a lot looser on him, as if it had grown a couple of sizes. Ignoring this, Harry approached what he reckoned to be a ballroom of some sort, he became aware of a distant voice on the other side of the door.

"Do you, Harry James Potter…" said the voice, muffled by the door.

Harry froze at the mention of his name. "What the hell?" he muttered incredulously as his pace quickened slightly.

"… take Ginevra Molly Weasley…" the voice continued.

He gasped involuntarily. _Ginny! But how? She's..._

"… to be your lawful wedded wife?" finished the voice.

Hearing this, Harry approached the large double doors carefully. Peering through the glass, he saw a large number of people, all seated and watching a couple standing at a makeshift altar. His eyes widened as they rested upon the couple taking their vows at the altar.

"Impossible!" breathed Harry, for standing at the altar was a beautiful red-head and a man with untidy black hair and glasses. Many conflicting emotions were rampaging within Harry at that point.

He was watching his own wedding.

Harry watched the ceremony for a few minutes, unsure of how to react. However, when the newly-married couple began to make their way down the aisle, he still had enough presence of mind to stand to one side and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, which rendered him completely invisible. The doors opened as the wedding party made their way towards the dining room for the wedding reception.

_Is this the future? _wondered Harry as he watched everyone file past him. _One that I've already changed?_ When he saw his 'other' self and Ginny, he began to think so. _He looks younger than me though,_ Harry thought as he looked at the other Harry Potter. He was indeed a lot younger than Harry, perhaps in his early-twenties, as was Ginny, but they seemed slightly taller than himself. This puzzled Harry slightly but he ignored that for now.

He began to follow the wedding party. _Everyone's here!_ Harry exclaimed in his mind._ This is incredible!_ _But how's this possible? Mrs Weasley burned along with the Burrow, yet there she is crying alongside Mr Weasley, who appears to still have all his limbs. And there's Lupin and Tonks, the rest of the Weasleys and…. Hold on, where're Ron and…_

"So how're my two favourite little girls?"

Harry turned and saw twenty-something year old Hermione blush as Ron kissed her and the sleeping baby in her arms. Seeing the rings on their fingers and the baby, Harry grinned. "Good for you Ron," he muttered out loud.

Ron looked up and looked in Harry's direction with a confused look on his face. "What?"

Hermione looked at Ron, then in the direction Ron was looking in. "What's wrong?"

"Did you just hear someone say my name?" he asked her.

Harry tried not to curse out loud. How could he be so stupid and not cast a Silencing Charm on himself?

"Ron?" said Hermione, concerned at her husband's stranger than usual behaviour.

Ron sighed and turned back to his wife and daughter. "Sorry. I just thought I heard someone say something. Sounded just like Harry for a second."

"Harry?" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes flicking towards the main table, where Harry and Ginny were sitting, talking to Neville.

Ron nodded. "Probably just my imagination…"

At this point, Harry realised that he should leave now before anyone discovered his presence. He knew that if anyone saw another Harry Potter suddenly appear, everyone would no doubt assume that he was an impostor of some sort, and quite frankly, Harry was not in the mood to be accused of being 'part of a Death Eater plot' at that point. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, Harry, still invisible, began to slowly back away. Unfortunately, luck was not with him at that moment as he turned and walked straight into someone. Staggering backwards a few steps, Harry watched as the person he had walked into stumbled into three other people, sending them into a nearby table and causing several glasses of champagne to smash themselves to pieces on the floor.

_Shit!_ thought Harry, trying not to make too sudden a move. _I'd better make myself scarce before someone…_

"Finite Incantatum!"

"Ah crap!" muttered Harry as he shielded his eyes from the flash of light that cancelled out his Disillusionment Charm. Lowering his arms from his eyes, Harry saw that half of the room was staring at him in shock while the other half had their wands pointed straight at him. There was an awkward silence. _Ah… so much for not causing a scene…_

"Um…" said Harry uncertainly, "I come in peace?"


	3. CHAPTER 2 Another World

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER TWO – Another World.**

_Well,_ said a mocking voice in the back of Harry's mind. _Get yourself out of this one._

Harry ignored the voice as the whole room stared at him. No one moved or said anything. _Perfect,_ thought Harry. _Alright people, just stay like that and give me a few seconds…_ He started to concentrate as everyone stared at him. If he could establish a Mental Shield before anyone decided to throw any hexes in his direction, then he might stand a chance of getting out of there. If not, well…

"Who are you?" growled a voice suddenly. "And what are you doing here?"

Harry quite visibly jumped, not because of the suddenness the voice or the aggressive tone, but because of its familiarity._ Sirius?_ Turning his head slightly, he saw the figure of Sirius Black, wand in hand and sporting a very angry and increasingly impatient look on his face.

"Answer me!" he snapped.

Harry said nothing. _What the hell am I going to do now?_ he wondered frantically. _I can't fight them and they probably won't listen if I try and tell them the truth. That leaves making a run for it, but there're so many of them. I'm not sure if my Mental Shield'll last too long against all those wands. Damn it, where's a distraction when you need one?_

Looking at his godfather, Harry could tell that he was only a few seconds away from being hexed. As Sirius's grip on his wand tightened slightly, Harry finally spoke…

"Alright, alright. Calm down!" he said quickly. "I'm not here to start any trouble."

Several gasps emanated from throughout the room when Harry spoke. _Oh no,_ thought Harry. _What have I done now?_ Everyone's eyes were now fixed on Harry, some jumping between the two Harrys, the other Harry looking just as confused as the others. _That's not good,_ thought Harry. _If this future was my doing and he were me, then he'd remember this, wouldn't he? _However, as each second passed and everyone mumbled around him with confused voices, an unwelcome supposition was growing more and more likely.

"Alright," said a gruff voice that Harry immediately recognised as belonging to Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. "Let's hear it. Who are you?"

There was a pause. Everyone present seemed to be holding their breath, wondering what this strange boy in Muggle clothes who looked so much like the groom was going to say.

_Boy? _wondered Harry, as his Legilimency picked up the unsuppressed thoughts broadcasting through the room. _What in the bloody hell do they mean by 'boy'. Can't they tell I'm…_

Harry looked down at his jacket, which still seemed very loose on him. _You have got to be kidding me, _he thought. Remembering his arrival, Harry began to wonder if the unseen force that had inflicted itself upon him had in fact changed him. _If I've been made young again, that would explain why everyone's taller…_

While Harry pondered, Sirius, Moody and some of the others were getting impatient.

"Damn it, boy!" yelled Moody suddenly. "Who are…"

"Harry!" interrupted Harry quickly. "My name's Harry," he muttered.

"I don't believe you!" growled Sirius after a few seconds. "Tell us who you really are! Why are you here?"

Harry glanced at the other Harry. Seeing the still confused look on his double's face, Harry's heart sank. _That's not me! If it were, he would know I was him. He'd remember this from my perspective if this future's been changed. But if he's not me, then… no, it can't be…_

Sirius glared at Harry when he didn't say anything. "Oh well, we'll get the truth out of you soon enough," he said, aiming his wand at Harry's chest. "Stupefy!"

As the Stunning Spell streaked towards Harry, he held up his arm instinctively, even though he knew that it wouldn't do him any good. If anything were to protect him, it would be the Mental Shield. Sure enough, as the spell hit him, it rebounded off of the shielded arm and, instead of flying straight back to Sirius it went flying past him before stopping and disappearing in mid-air. As it did so, a previously unseen figure suddenly became visible as his Disillusionment Charm died and he crumpled onto the floor unconscious. The other Harry recognised the blonde-haired figure straight away.

"Malfoy!" he almost yelled.

The attention of the room immediately turned from the stranger named 'Harry' to the unconscious form of Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was quickly restrained and searched by Moody, Lupin and Sirius, all of whom were now ignoring Harry. Relieved that no-one was pointing any wands at him, Harry watched as Lupin held up a gourd full of an unpleasantly dark looking liquid. Upon seeing this, Sirius roared with fury and had to be held back for the unconscious Malfoy's safety.

"What is it?" asked Ron as he held Sirius back. "Some kind of Potion?"

"Let go of me!" yelled Sirius. "That filthy snake deserves to have his tongue ripped out!"

Harry took a few steps toward them. "It's called Piandisk," he said, ignoring everyone's stares. "It's a mixture of the venoms of the Basilisk, the Pinlimick Stinging Flower and the Brazilian Wandering Spider."

He took the gourd from Lupin's hand as the werewolf began to pale. Holding it up, Harry continued. "Very rare. Very potent. One drop, no matter how dilute, is enough to guarantee the victim a slow, agonising death."

His grip on the gourd tightened as he thought of Hermione – Malfoy had injected her with the venom, supplied by Snape, just before Ron had killed him.

"First, the victim is paralysed as the concoction slowly makes its way through the bloodstream…"

By now, everyone was beginning to notice something in Harry's voice that scared them – it was so cold and full of hate.

"The paralysis is so powerful that the victim can't even scream." Someone gasped when Harry said this. He ignored it and continued. "By the time the venom finally reaches the heart, the victim is already in so much pain, they welcome death when it finally comes." When he said this, his audience gasped in horror – it looked as if Harry's eyes were beginning to glow.

"And there's no cure," Harry finished.

A split-second later, the gourd and its contents disintegrated in a flash of blinding white light, right before their eyes. The others looked at Harry when this happened and saw that the glow in his eyes was gone.

Harry looked at his now empty hand and sighed. Of all the emotions he was capable of feeling, fury and hatred were the ones he always tried to avoid – they were too dangerous, not only to himself, but also to those around him. Many a Death Eater had died amidst the flames of his fury and many a friend had come close to suffering the same fate. His rage was feared by his enemies just as much as the name 'Voldemort' had been feared by the wizarding world. Indeed, in the aftermath of the Liberation of Diagon Alley, the Goblins of Gringotts had given him the name _Maarek Ilumian_, which apparently translated to _Fury of the Light_. But that was a long time ago. Harry had vowed to himself many times to never allow the fury within him to be released many times but time and time again, something had happened and his fury had been unleashed. _Never again, _he thought to himself at that moment, but he knew that it would be yet another of his broken promises.

Looking down at Malfoy, he resisted the urge to revive him and make him suffer. Instead, he addressed the others, who were still staring at him, some wondering if they'd imagined seeing Harry's eyes glowing white.

"Check everything that's even remotely edible," he instructed. "Use the Locario Toxicis charm, then use Lumos and any Piandisk should start to glow orange. But make sure you don't touch it – it can be absorbed through the skin."

Harry's description of the effects of Piandisk still fresh in their minds, most of the inhabitants of the room quickly began the search for the poison – everyone that is, except Harry James Potter, husband of Ginevra Molly Potter. Ignoring his wife's concerned look, he approached the figure in the leather jacket.

"Who are you?" he asked carefully.

Harry looked at his other self as the other man's wife looked on. "You're not me, are you?" he said plainly.

"What do you mean?" asked the other Harry.

"You've never tried sending your essence back in time," said Harry, looking around him. "You've never had any reason to." he added, his eyes settling on Ginny.

"Back in time? You mean you're from the future?" the other Harry asked.

"My name is Harry Potter, and about half an hour ago it was 2016, everyone I knew and cared about was long dead and I'd just turned thirty. The next thing I know, I'm here in some alternate universe and watching some other me getting married," said Harry, summing up his entire situation in two sentences.

"Alternate Universe?" responded the other Harry. "How?"

"Well, I did have an unstable Temporal Field collapse on top of me, so that's probably the reason I'm here," replied Harry.

"And, uh, why were you anywhere near an 'unstable Temporal Field'?" asked the other Harry, not quite believing that he was having this conversation.

Harry sighed heavily. "In my 'reality', for lack of a better word, everyone's gone," he muttered. "Everyone and everything I ever cared about."

"You mean… Voldemort won?" his other self asked cautiously.

"No," replied Harry bitterly. "No, I killed him eventually. But by that time, everyone had been dead for years. That's why I tried to send my memories back to when I was a boy." He sighed. "All I wanted to do was make things right."

There was a slight pause. "Something went wrong," the other Harry concluded. "Didn't it?"

Harry nodded. "I was supposed to die. That was the only way my memories could go back in time and merge with my past self."

"So why didn't you?"

"The Killing Curse failed to do its job." said Harry, not trying to laugh at the irony of it all. He had spent over ten years dodging the Avada Kedavra curse, believing that one false move would end it all. But now, the one time he needed to be hit by the curse, it hadn't worked. It seemed that he was immune to the Avada Kedavra curse. "The next thing I know, the Temporal Field collapses on top me and I'm here, watching my own wedding."

His other self nodded, as though understanding.

"Or rather, your wedding," Harry added.

His other self sighed. "Look, I…"

"Don't mention it," Harry interrupted.

His other self looked at him confused. "How did you…?"

"Legilimency," said Harry, tapping his forehead with two fingers.

His other self's fists clenched.

"Sorry," apologised Harry. "Guess I'm not the only one who's had bad experiences with Legilimency."

"Snape," muttered his other self.

Harry nodded as he remembered Severus Snape begging for mercy, not five minutes after killing Ron with an _Avada Kedavra_, just like he'd killed Dumbledore all those years ago. How pathetic the self-proclaimed Half Blood Prince had looked. "_Not so confident now, eh Snivellus?"_ he had said as his rage flowed through him and Snape squirmed on the ground, knowing that his life was about to end.

"Look," his other self began. "If you need a place to stay or someone to talk to..."

Harry shook his head. "I don't belong here," he sighed. "This isn't my world – it's yours. I don't know what you did that I didn't, but whatever it was, you've earned all this. Just make sure nothing happens to it, alright?"

"But what about you?" exclaimed his other self. "You can stay here. Start a new life – we'll help you..."

"No," interrupted Harry. "I promised myself I'd bring my friends back, and I've already broken too many promises."

"So what're you going to do?" Harry's other self asked.

"I don't know," muttered Harry. Before his other self could say anything else, Harry turned around and began to walk away. He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do, but he walked towards the door anyway.

"Harry?" said Ginny as she quickly ran over to her husband. "Where's he going? What's going on? Who...?" She stopped when she saw her husband shake his head. Everyone turned and watched as the figure in the leather jacket walked towards the door, asking each other the same questions Ginny had just asked her husband. Suddenly, everyone witnessed something that none of them would ever forget.

As Harry went to open the door, a pale blue aura surrounded and flowed through him. Threads of light danced around him as the mysterious light bathed him. A few seconds later, he became the light as it flowed inwards and he disappeared.

The wedding party stared at the now empty space beside the door, awestruck. They had witnessed the most wondrous spectacle any of them had ever seen. They had no way of knowing that they were the first of many whose lives would be touched by this lonely child of the light, who would one day be celebrated in the legends of countless realities as The Lone Traveller.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Rather than the canon dating system (First year 1991 etc), I use a dating system based on the first book taking place in the year it was published (1997).


	4. CHAPTER 3 Happy Family

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER THREE – Happy Family.**

"Harry James Potter!" yelled a voice from downstairs. "If you're not down here in five minutes, your breakfast's going to Jo-Jo!"

Young Harry Potter sat up in his bed, rolling his eyes. _Why does she always say that?_ he wondered. _She knows that cat doesn't eat normal food._ _Oh well, I suppose I'd better get up anyway before she sends..._

"Wake Up!!!" yelled the two girls as they stormed into his bedroom.

_Oh Merlin,_ thought Harry. _Why does Mum always have to send these two?_

"Your breakfast..." said one.

"Is getting cold..." said the other.

"And Mum is..."

"Starting to mutter something..."

"About a hex..."

"Involving you..."

"And water..."

"Very cold water..."

"Freezing I think she said..."

"And from Dad's expression..."

"I think the water..."

"Is very..."

"Very..."

"Cold."

"Just in case..."

"You needed reason..."

"To get up..."

"Though personally..."

"We don't think you should get up..."

"After all, this hex of Mum's sounds very..."

"Very..."

"Entertaining," they finished together before leaving Harry's bedroom laughing.

"Why couldn't someone have separated those two at birth?" muttered Harry as he grabbed a T-shirt and put it on. He looked at the calendar on the wall, which told him that the date was the 31st of July – just over a month before he was due to go back to Hogwarts. Leaving his bedroom and walking downstairs, Harry couldn't help but wonder what third year had in store for him. Last year, the Chamber of Secrets had been opened by Voldemort's old diary, which had possessed his best mate's little sister and the year before, Voldemort had possessed the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and had attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Merlin only knew what would happen to him this year.

Just as he entered the kitchen, he did a double take as he remembered the date. _31st of July! Of all the... How could I have forgot my birthday?_

"He forgot," said one of the twins, having seen Harry's reaction.

"Of course he did," replied the other one.

"After all, he is a boy..."

"And you can't expect boys to remember other people's birthdays..."

"And their own..."

"At the same time."

"Be quiet you two!" their mother scolded.

"Sorry Mum," they apologised meekly.

"Go and get your father," their mother instructed. "He'll probably be outside with Sirius admiring that accursed motorbike."

"Yes Mum," the twins said quietly.

"Mum? Why are Claire and Caroline so mean to Harry?" a voice from the table asked after the twins had left the kitchen.

Lily Potter looked at her youngest son and smiled. "Oh, they're just being silly. You know they're not trying to be nasty."

"But it's not fair!" exclaimed the red-haired boy. "Just because they need reminding about other people's birthdays doesn't mean they should be jealous that Harry doesn't!"

Harry grinned at his little brother – William always hated seeing other people being made fun of, especially by the twins.

"I wouldn't worry about it Will," said Harry. "I'm just looking forward to seeing those two try the 'twin' routine on a teacher." Ignoring his mother's disapproving glare, Harry continued. "Oh, I so hope they try it on Snape. I can already picture it; _Fifty points from Gryffindor for insolence, and for tripling the number of Potters in this school!_" he said in a voice identical to that of the Hogwarts Potions Master.

William laughed at this, as did James Potter and Sirius Black, who had just come into the kitchen, accompanied by the twins, who glared at Harry.

After several birthday greetings and breakfast, an owl appeared at the kitchen window with three letters attached to its leg. Claire and Caroline were on their feet in an instant – their Hogwarts letters had arrived along with Harry's third year letter. While the twins read theirs with overwhelming enthusiasm, Harry looked at the booklist, which was refreshingly devoid of any Gilderoy Lockhart books this year. There was an outcry from the twins when they saw this.

"That's not fair!" yelled Claire.

"Yeah!" agreed Caroline. "Why don't we get Lockhart? We'll probably end up getting some boring old teacher now."

Harry rolled his eyes, not noticing his father and godfather's badly suppressed grins – he had told his sisters repeatedly that Lockhart was a clueless fraud, but they refused to listen. _Oh well, at least we'll probably be getting a teacher who knows what he's doing this year – I hope. _As Harry thought this, a familiar figure entered the kitchen.

"Moony!" said his father as he and Sirius welcomed Remus Lupin and invited him to sit down. "So, how are things? Anything interesting happening in the near the future?" James asked, winking at Lupin.

Lupin grinned, understanding what his friend was getting at. "Actually Prongs, there is." He turned to address Harry and the twins. "As of yesterday, I am now the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The twins blushed slightly when he said this, hoping no one would tell their godfather what they had just said. Harry on the other hand, just grinned and offered his congratulations.

XxXxXxXxXxX

After the opening of the presents and much ribbing from Sirius about the 'hazards of being thirteen', Harry decided to go out and give the broomstick upgrade kit he had received from his father a try. Taking his trusty old Nimbus 2000 from the shed, he took out a strange looking item and held it against the broom. An orange light reached out from the object and seemed to pulse through the broom – apparently, it was supposed to improve the broom's speed and manoeuvrability.

Five minutes later, Harry put the strange object down and mounted his broom. Taking to the air, he couldn't help but marvel at the fact that his father wanted to buy him a new broom. He had offered a year ago to buy Harry a Nimbus 2001 and had recently offered to buy him a Firebolt. "_But I like this broom!_" Harry had said both times. And he did – this broom had won him every Quidditch match he had ever played, was reliable and had never let him down so far.

_Well, _thought Harry after a while, _I have no idea how, but that thing seems to've made the Nimbus a lot faster._ He decided to see if the broom's agility was any better and performed the backflip into a vertical plunge that had become his unofficial trademark move whenever he played Quidditch. However, as he did so, he noticed something among the trees in the forest – a blue light.

His curiosity aroused, Harry swooped down towards the trees as the light disappeared. Landing gracefully, Harry took a few steps into the forest, stopping when he saw a figure in a leather jacket, leaning against a tree.

-

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Just thought I'd better say a few things…

I've already written the next chapter, barring a few alterations I might make, but I'm going into Hospital tomorrow, so I might not be able to post it for a while.

Before anyone says anything, I know there might be some things that don't quite add up to Canon. That's mainly because I haven't read any Harry Potter for a long time so most stuff (incantations etc) are based on what I remember. Also, I have made up a few things (Piandisk, Locario Toxicis, Pinlimick Stinging Flower etc) so please don't be too harsh if I make any errors, okay?

Cintasia: Concerning Harry's bumping into someone, he's just been thrown into some weird alternate world, had just watched his own wedding and has just realised that someone discovering his presence would not be a good thing. At this point, he's trying very hard not to panic and just wants to get out of the way before he causes any trouble. Unfortunately, his panic causes him to bump into said person. Also, concerning his Disillusionment spell, I am not trying to write a Super Harry story. He may have a lot of power and ability, but his magic is just as susceptible to things like 'Finite Incantatum' as anyone else's. Concerning my original stories, I haven't had any of them published yet, mainly because they aren't finished.


	5. CHAPTER 4 A Bit of Encouragement

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER FOUR – A Bit of Encouragement.**

Harry was breathing heavily as he leaned against what felt like a tree. As he waited for his vision to return, he wondered where he had been taken this time.

Since he'd inexplicably saved his own wedding from death by Piandisk Potion, he had been dumped in two other alternate worlds before being swept away to this one. In the first alternate reality, he had appeared just outside Diagon Alley, where he had witnessed his younger self being given a guided tour of the Alley by Hagrid.

He had then been engulfed by the blue aura a few minutes after helping his younger self get away from some 'Boy-Who-Lived' fans and appeared in Little Whinging, where he saw his other self being hit in the back of the head with a cricket bat by Dudley. Harry had winced when he saw this – he had spent a month in the hospital with a concussion because of Dudley, though it had 'officially' been an accident that had caused the concussion, thanks to Uncle Vernon. _Not this time,_ Harry had thought as he conjured up a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote an anonymous letter to his former neighbour, Miss Figg, telling her of what he had witnessed and hoping that she would pass it on the Dumbledore. _It might not do this Harry any good,_ Harry had thought at the time, _But then again, it just might make a difference_.

Of course, by now, Harry was starting to wonder why this was happening to him. Why was he being swept through time and reality by some unseen force? It seemed that he only seemed to 'move on' to the next reality when he had actually done something to help someone. _So now what?_ Harry wondered as his vision began to return to him for the fourth time.

He suddenly realised he wasn't alone. Looking up, he saw a young boy with dark hair, glasses and a familiar scar staring at him wide-eyed.

_Oh bugger!_ thought Harry, as his other self stood there frozen on the spot. His eleven-year-old self from the second reality hadn't seen Harry's scar and so hadn't realised he had just been saved from having to endure countless handshakes by another version of himself. This one, on the other hand, had seen Harry's scar and was probably trying to figure out who, or indeed, what he was.

"I guess you're probably about to ask who I am, right?" Harry said to his other self.

The other boy, who Harry guessed was probably about twelve or thirteen, nodded slightly.

Harry thought for a second, considering how to answer that question in a way that made sense. "Okay," said Harry after a few seconds. "Let's see if I can explain this without confusing either of us. Um... right. How about this? I'm you, but from a different reality." _Bloody hell, that sounded stupid, _thought Harry. _I'm really gonna have to work on an explanation, especially if I have to do this more than once_.

There was an awkward pause before the younger Harry finally spoke. "Wh… you're… me?" he stammered.

Harry looked at his other self sympathetically, trying not to think about what he must be thinking at this point. "Sort of," he replied. He decided to try another explanation. "Think of me as a Harry Potter that led a different life. Does that make any sense?"

"You… you mean you're a… an alternate version of me?" the younger Harry stuttered.

"More of less," Harry nodded and looked around at the trees around him. "Anyway, where are we?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject. "This isn't the Forbidden Forest, is it?"

The other Harry laughed when he said this. "The Forbidden Forest? Of course not! That's at Hogwarts. Don't you even know where you are?"

"A few minutes ago, I was in Little Whinging, Surrey and about two hours before that, I was in Diagon Alley, so no, I don't know where I am right now," Harry replied irritably.

"Oh. Sorry," mumbled the younger Harry. "Um… well, this is Gryffindor Forest. My house is over there, on the other side of the village," he said, pointing behind him.

"Village?" said Harry. He walked past his other self, stopping when the 'village' came into view. "Godric's Hollow!" he gasped.

His other self nodded, confused by Harry's reaction. "Um, yeah… That's my house over there," he said, pointing to a large house just outside the village.

"Impossible," whispered Harry. He looked at his other self's forehead. _He has a scar too, but if that's his house, then that can only mean…_

"What's wrong?"

Harry pointed at his other self's scar with both his index and middle finger. "That scar – how did you get it?"

The question confused the other Harry greatly, but he answered it anyway. "Well… when I was a baby, a Dark Wizard called Voldemort attacked me and my parents. He tried to kill me, but for some reason, his killing spell bounced off me and destroyed him – at least, physically. He didn't die, though most people think he did."

"And your parents?" asked Harry. "What happened to them?"

"I… I dunno," stammered the younger Harry. "I guess he stunned them or something… Why?"

"They didn't die?" mumbled Harry.

"What?" exclaimed Harry's other self. "No! Of course they didn't…" He stopped suddenly. "Oh Merlin!" he murmured. "Your parents. They…"

Harry nodded. "They both died that night," he said quietly.

There was a long silence. Harry's mind was in turmoil. _His parents are alive!_ he thought glanced at the scar on his other self's forehead. _How is that possible? How can he have got that scar if neither of his parents died for him._ At this point, an unwelcome conclusion entered Harry's mind. _They didn't have to die to save me! My parents could have lived! If Riddle had just stunned them, I wouldn't have had to endure growing up with the Dursleys…_

The younger Harry, not knowing what to say, tried to change the subject. "Um… look, I sorta told everyone I wouldn't be long," he said. "You should come. I mean, if you're… hungry or anything…"

He trailed off, unsure whether Harry had heard him or not. Harry stood there for a few seconds before realising that he was feeling a little peckish – he hadn't eaten anything since just before arriving at the ruins of Privet Drive, which from his perspective was just over six hours ago. "Sounds good," he said. "I could do with a bit of food – only if it's okay though…"

"It's okay," interrupted the other Harry, realising for the first time how others must feel whenever he said that. "Besides, I'm sure there'll be plenty of cake left over."

"Cake?" said Harry, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," replied the other Harry. "It's kinda my birthday today."

"Really?" said Harry. "Weird."

"What is?" enquired the younger Harry.

"It was my birthday when this whole 'alternate reality' thing started for me," answered Harry.

"Oh," said the other Harry. "Some birthday present."

Harry smiled. _Well, at least he's got a sense of humour_. "So how old are you?"

"Thirteen. You?"

"Thirty," replied Harry. "And before you say anything, I used to be a lot taller and… older looking."

"Oh," was other self's response. "Anyway, we should go – everyone'll be wondering where I've gone. C'mon, I'll give you a ride."

For the first time, Harry noticed the broom in his other self's hand and smiled. "Never thought I'd see that old thing again," he said quietly.

"Huh?"

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Just thinking about a little incident involving my old Nimbus, a swarm of Dementors and the Whomping Willow,"

"Do I even want to know?" his other self asked sarcastically. "Never mind. C'mon, let's go."

Harry shook his head. "I've got a better idea." He put his hand on his other self's shoulder. "That's your house over there, right?" he asked, pointing at the large house near the village. His other self nodded. "Alright, then. Hold on," said Harry before Apparating them both away.

XxXxXxXxX

"Where in Merlin's name is that boy?" said James Potter in an exasperated voice.

"Relax, Prongsie," said Sirius. "He's probably just flying around somewhere."

"He said he was just going for one flight," said James.

"Well… maybe he meant one very long flight," suggested Sirius, trying to lighten the mood, though he was just as worried as his friend – Harry had been gone for well over an hour.

"Harry's in trouble, isn't he?" smirked Claire as the twins entered the room.

"You be quiet," said James irritably.

"What're you gonna do to him?" asked Caroline. "Ground him? Take his broom off him? Make him…"

"I said be quiet!" yelled James. "I do not need you two in here…"

He stopped when he heard the characteristic 'crack' of an Apparation. "What the…?" he exclaimed as he and Sirius got up and went to investigate the source of the Apparation.

Outside, Harry was struggling to keep himself from falling over.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry's other self, concerned when the other him stumbled forward.

Harry turned to his other self. "Why didn't you warn me there were Anti-Apparition Wards in place?" he growled angrily.

"I…" stammered the younger Harry. "I forgot."

"You forgot?" breathed Harry incredulously.

"Well… yeah," stammered the younger Harry, "But… how did you…?"

"Apparate through an Anti-Apparition Ward?" said Harry. "There are two ways to get through. The first is to time it so you're going through when there's a gap in the field, but you can only do that if you know the ward is there. The second method is to simply use sheer power to force your way through – it is very hard, very dangerous and TAKES A LOT OF ENERGY!" His voice rose suddenly and he glared at his other self, who looked down at his feet before mumbling an apology. Harry sighed and tried to relax. "Don't worry about it, kid," he relented. "Just make sure you warn someone next time."

"Speaking of warning…" said the younger Harry suddenly. "I'd better go inside and warn everyone about you before you..." he stopped, staring at the front door in horror.

Harry, wondering why his other self had stopped, looked at the front door and saw what his other self was looking at. Standing at the front door, wands drawn, were the figures of Sirius Black and James Potter, who were staring at him with equally horrified looks.

_Why is no one ever pleased to see me?_ wondered Harry irritably. _The first version of my godfather I saw tried to hex me, and now this!_ He stopped and looked at his other self.

"Um… maybe you'd better do the introductions," said Harry uncertainly.

The younger Harry looked at Harry with a look that said 'why me?' before opening his mouth to speak. However, before he could explain anything, his father interrupted him.

"Harry?" his father said, trying to sound calm but failing miserably. "Who is this?"

"Um…" his son stammered. "He's, uh… well… he's kinda… well… me."

His father looked at him as if he were speaking Goblin. The boy tried again.

"Well… y'see, he's me, but… different…" he began.

"Oh for crying out loud…" muttered Harry impatiently, "Just say 'alternate version of me', I mean, even I didn't do this badly trying to explain it to you."

"Hey!" said the younger Harry defensively, "I'm doing my best. Besides, you'd probably do just as badly trying to explain this to your dad."

"Yeah well, if I'd ever had a dad, then neither of us would be in this situation now, would we?" retorted Harry.

"Then don't tell me how to…"

"QUIET!!!" yelled James Potter. "Harry, tell me what is going on and who that boy is, now."

Quickly, the younger Harry stumbled through an explanation of who Harry was, based on what he had been told by Harry. Though they both looked sceptical, both James and Sirius lowered their wands. "I suppose you'd better come inside," James relented.

XxXxXxXxX

"Harry!" exclaimed Lily Potter when they entered the kitchen. "Where have you been? We've been waiting for you for…" She froze when she saw the figure in the leather jacket. "James?" she said uncertainly. "Who is this?"

James looked at the older Harry, then at his son. "Harry. Perhaps you should explain."

"Wh… But…" stammered young Harry, horrified at the prospect of having to explain everything again. Fortunately, Harry decided to spare him the trouble.

"I'll do it," he muttered to a relieved other self. "Basically, I'm him," he said, pointing to his younger self, "But from a different reality, where things were different." He looked around the kitchen at the alternate version of his mother and the siblings that had never existed as they stood in a house he had once visited the ruins of. "Very different," he sighed.

They all sat down at the table, after the twins and William were sent out of the room at Harry's request ("This probably isn't something they should hear."), and listened to Harry's explanation as to how he came to be in their reality, trying not to stare at his parents. _They're alive! How can they be alive? How can this other me be alive as well? How can there be a Boy-Who-Lived who hasn't lost his parents? Why did they have to live here? Why couldn't they've survived in my reality? It's just not fair…_

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts, Harry instead continued to explain his situation, though he also tried to leave out as many details as possible. _After all,_ thought Harry,_ It isn't polite to tell your hosts that, as far as you're concerned, they're eiher dead, or the kid's case, never existed._ He wasn't going to lie to them though – if they asked about their alternate selves, he'd tell them the truth. _I mean, what harm could it do?_ Harry reasoned.

This was precisely what Harry did when Sirius had asked about Harry's version of himself, Harry had had to tell him about the twelve years his godfather had spent in Azkaban after being framed by Peter Pettigrew for the deaths of a streetful of Muggles.

"But… but, if he was trying to frame me of being the traitor, why didn't James and Lily tell them that Peter was the secret-keeper?" Sirius asked.

Harry said nothing, which, combined with the expression on his own godson's face, was enough for him to figure out what had happened to 'James and Lily'. The alternate versions of Harry's parents quickly came to the same conclusion.

"Oh, Harry," said Lily, trying not to cry. "I'm so sorry."

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It never happened in this reality. I'm just one of the unlucky ones that lost everything."

"Everything?" choked Lily.

_Nice going,_ said a mocking voice in the back of Harry's mind. _Executed with all the subtlety of a steam train._ Harry ignored the voice as Lily hugged him, tears welling in her eyes. Looking around, he saw James, Sirius and Lupin all looking pale. His other self on the other hand, was trying to avoid eye contact. _He's probably never realised how lucky he is_, thought Harry.

Eventually, everyone calmed down and Lily offered him something to eat, which Harry accepted gratefully. When James suggested that they leave Harry be, the others agreed and he led Sirius, Lupin and the other Harry out of the kitchen, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen with Lily.

"I'm sorry if I upset you," said Harry, after he'd eaten, hoping his apology wouldn't go down the wrong way.

"No, no, don't worry," sighed Lily. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have cried like that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," said Harry. Harry decided to change the subject by offering to help her do the washing up. His suggestion seemed to surprise Lily.

"But you're a guest," spluttered Lily. "You don't need to do anything."

Harry smirked. "That's what Mrs Weasley used to say."

"You know Molly?" Lily asked.

"I stayed at the Burrow a few summers while I was at Hogwarts," Harry explained.

"During the summer?" said Lily. "Who did you stay with the rest of the time?" she asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"The Dursleys," said Harry without thinking. He immediately regretted it when he saw Lily turn pale.

"You… Petunia looked after you?" she asked in a disbelieving voice.

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "They supplied a roof over my head and the bare minimum of food. That's about it really." He could tell that Lily was about to say something, so he quickly added, "Don't worry – unfortunately, I've gone through a lot worse than living with those three."

Luckily, Lily decided not to pursue the subject and turned back to what she was doing when Claire, Caroline and William came in, closely followed by Harry's other self.

"Is it true…?" asked Claire.

"That you're really…" added Caroline.

"Another version…"

"Of our esteemed older brother?"

"Girls!" exclaimed Lily.

"No, no, it's okay," said Harry. He turned to address the twins. "The answer is no."

The girls looked at Harry, confused. "What d'you mean?" asked Claire.

"What I mean," elaborated Harry. "Is that I'm not an alternate version of your brother."

"You mean, you're not Harry Potter?" said Caroline, jumping to the obvious, if incorrect, conclusion.

"No, I don't," said Harry. "My name IS Harry Potter."

"Then what DO you mean?" asked Caroline.

Harry turned to his other self, who was desperately trying to keep a straight face. "Are they always this dense?" he asked his other self. His other self nodded, an amused grin covering his face.

"Hey!" said Claire.

"We…" said Caroline.

"Are…"

"Not…"  
"Dense!" they finished together.

"Okay, okay, I believe you," said Harry laughing as he remembered Fred & George.

"Millions wouldn't," muttered the younger Harry, earning him a laugh from his 10-year-old brother, a disapproving glare from his mother and a double glare from his sisters.

They turned back to Harry. "So who are you then, if you aren't our brother?" asked Claire.

"Simple. I'm an only child," said Harry bluntly. "You never existed in my reality."

The twins stood there speechless. Harry's younger self looked away.

"Don't worry about it," said Harry, trying to reassure the twins. "My reality's very different from this one. Things happened there that didn't happen here and, well, things turned out differently."

There was a slight pause, which was interrupted by his younger self. "You fancy a game of Quidditch?" he asked. "Dad and Sirius're already outside with their brooms. You can borrow Dad's old Nimbus 1750 if you want."

Harry nodded. "Sounds good." He walked past the girls and left the kitchen with his younger self. "Although, I should tell you, I haven't actually played Quidditch in nearly fifteen years…" he added as they left the house.

XxXxXxXxX

"So," said James, "I don't suppose you've ever played Quidditch, have you?"

Harry smirked at the former Chaser. "Youngest Seeker in over a century for the Gryffindor house team."

"You too?" grinned the younger Harry.

"Yup," said Harry. "Even had a move named after me – apparently, someone did it in the final of the last Quidditch World Cup. They called it the…"

"Potter Flip," finished the younger Harry.

Harry nodded. "As you're moving forward, you pull up the front of your broom and do a backward flip…"

"Then you plunge straight down," finished the younger Harry. "Very useful if you're chasing the Snitch or avoiding a Bludger."

"Or a burly Slytherin," Harry grinned, remembering the time that either Crabbe or Goyle had tried to ram into him, only for Harry to Potter Flip out of the way and watch as the Slytherin Beater ploughed straight into Malfoy.

"Poor old Flint," laughed the younger Harry, remembering a similar incident involving Slytherin's team captain.

"Well, I hate to break it to you," said Sirius. "But we're not using Snitches – Quaffles only."

"Oh," was all that Harry's other self said.

"We're gonna get slaughtered," muttered Harry as they mounted their brooms.

Sure enough, when they went back into the house, James and Sirius had soundly beaten the two Harrys – neither Harry was any good as either a Keeper or a Chaser. The others went to put the brooms away while Harry went into the living room. There he saw the other Harry's youngest brother, reading a book.

"Hey there kiddo," Harry greeted warmly. "You missed a great game, even if it was a bit one sided." He sat down on one of the armchairs. The boy looked up and listened, but Harry could instantly tell he wasn't interested. "So what's your name?" he decided to ask.

"William," the boy answered.

"William," repeated Harry. "Well, nice to meet you William Potter."

"Um… yeah," said William uncertainly. "Nice to meet you too."

Harry looked at the book William was reading. He quickly recognised it as being The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 2. "Bit advanced, don't ya think?"

William shrugged. "Claire and Caroline have been looking through Harry's old Grade 1 book, so I thought I'd have a look through this one."

"Does Harry know you're borrowing his schoolbooks?" Harry asked.

"I asked permission!" said William indignantly, offended at Harry's implication.

Realising what William was thinking, Harry quickly apologised. "Sorry. I just thought, well, y'know…"

"Don't worry about it," said William dismissively. "The only reason I have to ask his permission is so he knows I've got his books and not the twins – he doesn't trust them with his stuff."

"I can see why," mused Harry. "Jinxed schoolbooks are a real bugger, especially if they go off in class." He watched William smirk before realising he'd just swore in front of a ten-year-old. "Oh, sorry," he said, mainly for the benefit of any parental figures who may have overheard. "So why're you so interested in second year spellbooks? You're not a bookworm, are you?"

If William were a Weasley, he probably would have gone as red as his hair. However, instead, he lowered his head and mumbled something. This reaction concerned Harry. _He must get this a lot from his family_, he thought, imagining William's father or Sirius making the odd 'just like Moony' or 'looks like he got Lily's brains' jokes.

"There's nothing wrong with being a bookworm y'know," he said, trying to reassure William. "Does your Harry know a girl named Hermione Granger?" he asked.

William nodded.

"Well, in my reality, she got a lot of flak for being smarter than everyone else. Everyone used to say she should've been in Ravenclaw, she was that smart, and if she's as smart in this reality as she was in mine, she'll do well. She'll probably be Head Girl, get a dozen N.E.W.Ts and get a great job at the Ministry or St Mungo's or something. Meanwhile, the same people that used to taunt her'll probably end up nowhere," said Harry.

William sat there, trying to figure out how he was supposed to react. This didn't surprise Harry. He'd seen Hermione feel ashamed of being intelligent and he was sure William would probably be made to feel the same way.

"You may find this hard to believe," continued Harry. "But being smart is a good thing. If you're an intellectual prodigy, you should be glad. Be humble, but never be ashamed of who you are, no matter what the Marauders, or anyone else might say."

Harry got up and walked over to William. "You want me to teach you something?"

William looked at Harry, wondering what he meant. "Teach me something? You mean magic?" he asked incredulously. "But I don't have a wand and even if I did, I wouldn't be allowed…"

"The Ministry only keeps a track of wand magic. Wandless magic is a different story, mainly because it's so rare among adults and with children, it's mostly accidental magic," explained Harry.

"But…" stammered William. "Wandless magic is…"

"Too hard? A waste of time? Not worthwhile?" interrupted Harry. "Don't believe a word of it. If I had another chance, I'd have learnt wandless magic from day one at Hogwarts. Besides, it's not as hard as people seem to think. It's really all about concentration."

William nodded. "Alright," he said eagerly. "Show me something."

Harry grinned and obliged by reaching out towards a book that was sitting on a table on the opposite end of the room. Suddenly, the book flew from it's position on the table, straight into Harry's waiting hand. "That was the wandless Summoning Charm. It's just the same the wand-using one except you don't have a wand and you don't have to say 'Accio'. It's the same with the wandless equivalent of 'Wingardium Leviosa'. It's exactly the same, except you don't actually say the words." He demonstrated by levitating the book just above his hand. "You know how to do those charms, right?"

"Well, I've read about how to do them." answered William. "I've never tried them though."

Harry took a few steps away and put the book on the armrest of the armchair he had been sitting on. "I want you to try levitating this."

"What?" exclaimed William. "But…"

"Don't worry," Harry assured the boy. "It's not that hard if you already know how to do the Levitation Charm. Just concentrate and picture the book already floating, just like you do normally. Then…"

He stopped when he saw the book starting to move. "That's it," encouraged Harry. "Just concentrate."

He looked at William – the boy's eyes were closed, his face tensed up in concentration.

"No, no," said Harry forcefully. "Just relax. Closing your eyes doesn't help, especially since you can't see the thing you're trying to levitate."

William allowed the book to drop and took a deep breath.

"Try reaching out towards the book. A hand is just as good at focusing magic as a wand," Harry added.

William looked at the book and nodded. Reaching out, he took a deep breath and stared at the book. A few seconds later, the book started to float, unsteadily at first but it stayed in the air, quickly levelling off.

"Good," Harry praised. "Now, let's see if you can Summon it. Just do the same thing as you've just done. Picture the book already in your hand and concentrate..."

As he said this, the book immediately flew across the room, straight into William's hand, though he was so surprised he'd managed to do it, he immediately dropped the book.

Harry grinned as William picked the book off the floor. "See," he said triumphantly. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

William nodded and returned the grin. However, his grin quickly disappeared when his older brother entered the room.

"Hey, uh… Harry," he said, addressing Harry though still uncertain what to call him. "Mum wants to talk to you. She's probably going to offer you a bed for the night or something."

Harry nodded and followed his other self through to the kitchen. He stopped and turned around. "You coming?" he asked William. Surprised at the thought of anyone wanting him to come with them, William nodded and followed Harry through to the kitchen.

"Harry," said Lily. "Do you have anywhere to stay? While you're… in this reality." she asked, pausing slightly at how absurd that question sounded.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think it matters. I doubt I'll be here much longer."

"What?" said Lily, confused. "Why not?"

Ignoring her, he turned to face William. He held out his hand, palm facing the ceiling, and suddenly, a ball of glowing light appeared just above his palm. "It's the wandless Illumination Charm. Just like the wand-using one."

He clenched his fist, extinguishing the light.

"I want you to try it."

William looked at Harry, his eyes wide with apprehension. "Here?" he whispered, glancing at both his brother and mother. Harry nodded. William closed his eyes, sighed and held out his hand, just like Harry had. His mother and brother watched in silence as a ball of light began to slowly form in William's hand.

"William!" gasped Lily. "You… you can do… James! Get in here now! You won't believe this!" she yelled as she left the kitchen in search of her husband.

William flinched when she did this. "Hey!" said Harry when he saw this. "Remember what I said: Don't be ashamed."

"It's not that," said William. "I just wanted to keep it a secret for the next time the twins tried to play a joke on me."

His brother laughed. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Will. If anything, they'll treat you better, just in case you decide to use you new powers against them." he said, ruffling his little brother's hair.

William grinned as his parents, sisters and family friends came hurrying into the kitchen. The twins were the first to speak.

"Well, little brother…" began Caroline.

"We knew you were a book-a-holic…" continued Claire.

"And preferred reading to Quidditch…"

"But who would've guessed…"

"You would turn out to be…"

"A magical prodigy?" Claire finished.

William shook his head. "It was Harry who showed me," he said modestly.

Harry shook his head in response. "You have a natural talent for wandless magic, kid," said Harry. "I just gave you some encouragement."

"Show us!" said Caroline eagerly.

"Yeah, Will," added Claire. "Go on."

"Girls!" snapped Lily.

"Go on William," said James, just as eager as the girls. "Show us what you can do."

"James!" Lily snapped again.

Trying not to laugh, William held out his palm and demonstrated the wandless Illumination Charm again. This time the light came a lot quicker – he was improving already.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," proclaimed Harry, taking a few steps back. "I present to you, William Potter, the Wandless Wonder!"

Harry watched as William's father, godfather, brother and sisters congratulated and praised him. Lily smiled at her youngest son, but turned her attention to Harry.

"Thank you," she said.

"I don't need thanking," said Harry, shaking his head. "I just gave him a bit of encouragement."

"Then thank you for encouraging him," smiled Lily. "He keeps so many things to himself, we'd probably have never realised…"

"I wouldn't worry about that," Harry said, looking at William. "I doubt he'll be keeping to himself so much anymore."

They both watched as James ruffled William's hair and the twins tried to get William do the Illumination Charm again. Suddenly, Lily remembered something. "What did you mean when you said you probably won't be here much longer?" she asked.

Harry looked at William and smiled before addressing Lily. "I get taken from reality to reality by some weird blue aura…" he began to explain.

His other self, hearing this, approached them. "You're leaving, aren't you?" he interrupted. "That blue light I saw – it's gonna take you away, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "It seems to take me to the next reality after I do something to help someone," he continued. He took a few steps away from them and picked up an Apple from a Fruit Bowl. Harry tossed the apple into the air with his left hand and caught in his right hand. William, who had just heard what Harry had said, watched Harry as he did this.

"And I think," Harry added, "I've just figured out what I was meant to do here." He looked at William. Everyone instantly realised what Harry meant.

He took a bite out of the apple in his hand as the blue aura surrounded him. The others watched awestruck, as the light shone and danced around him. For a few seconds, Harry became the light, before it imploded with a blinding flash, leaving nothing but an empty space where Harry had been standing.


	6. CHAPTER 5 The Unburnt Burrow

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER FIVE – The Unburnt Burrow.**

As the blue aura faded and Harry took another bite out of the apple in his hand, he wondered where he had been taken this time.

Looking around, he quickly realised he was standing in the middle of a field full of what Harry guessed to be Barley. _What the hell am I doing in a field? _Harry wondered, taking another bite out of the apple as he tried to catch a glimpse of any signs of civilisation through the tall grass.

Suddenly, Harry heard something. It sounded a bit like yelling, like one long yell, as if someone or something was flying through the air and was about to make a very unpleasant landing. Harry soon figured out what the yelling sound might be as it became louder. Looking up, he saw something hurtling towards him. He dived out of the way as the noisy something landed on the ground with a thump and a loud groan.

Getting back to his feet, Harry watched the something slowly stagger to its feet as it tried not to fall back down from dizziness. _No way, _Harry thought, staring at the Gnome that had almost collided with him. Looking in the direction from which the Gnome had come, Harry began to make his way through the long grass, ignoring another gnome as it landed nearby. As Harry emerged from within the Barley, his suspicions were confirmed.

Standing in the garden of The Burrow were Fred, George and Ron Weasley, busy doing their least favourite chore – degnoming the garden.

Harry stared at the strangely unstable looking house in wonder – the last time he had seen this house, it was engulfed in flames. That had been over ten years ago, but Harry still thought about the first house he had ever truly felt at home in from time to time. Seeing it still standing gave Harry a strange feeling of both elation and sorrow.

As Harry stood there, distracted by his own thoughts, he failed to notice the three Weasley boys staring right at him.

"Is that…?" wondered Fred.

"It can't be…" dismissed George.

"Harry?" exclaimed Ron.

The three of them stood, staring at the figure in the leather jacket who, even from this distance, looked a lot like their friend.

"How can it be?" asked George. "He's too old to be Harry."

"Too tall as well," said Fred.

"His hair's a lot longer than Harry's too," added George.

"But I suppose there is a resemblance," noted Fred.

"What do you think we should do?" asked Ron uncertainly.

"Maybe we should just ask him who he is," suggested Fred. "I mean, if he is Harry, then we invite him in and find out what he's doing here and why he looks like that."

"And if it's not Harry?" asked Ron.

"Then we invite him in anyway," said Fred. "I mean, he does look kind of lost to me."

"Excellent idea, brother of mine," agreed George.

"I don't know," muttered Ron. "Y'know what Mum always says about inviting strangers into the house…"

"And since when does Ickle Ronniekins care about what Mum says?" grinned Fred.

"Or is Ickle Ronniekins scared of the big bad mystery man?" added George, as Ron's ears began to redden.

"I'm not scared!" muttered Ron defiantly.

"Then what are we waiting for?" enquired Fred.

Harry was distracted from his thoughts when he noticed the twins approaching him, closely followed by Ron. _Oh crap!_ thought Harry as he realised he had been standing there in broad daylight for all to see. _Why the hell do I keep making these stupid mistakes? _he wondered angrily.

"Harry?" said one of the twins cautiously. "Is that you?"

_They've recognised me already?_ _Wonderful…_

"Who?" said Harry, feigning ignorance.

The three boys looked at him suspiciously. "You're not Harry Potter?" asked the other twin.

"Potter?" exclaimed Harry. "No! Of course not."

"So who are you?" asked the first twin, who Harry guessed correctly to be George.

"My name is Gary," answered Harry, using one of the many aliases he had used over the last thirteen years. "Gary Cooper."

The three Weasleys were now uncertain. This stranger in Muggle clothes looked so much like a slightly older Harry, but now they weren't so sure. After all, it was much more likely that this stranger was just that – a random stranger who had just emerged from the Barley field beside their house. However, Fred suddenly caught a glimpse of something that answered one question, but raised so many others.

"So, 'Gary'," he grinned. "Mind telling us what you're doing standing around here, staring at our house?"

Harry sighed. "It's kind of a long story…" he began.

"Like the story of how you got that scar?" interrupted George, having just seen what his brother had seen.

"Scar?" said Harry, desperately trying to maintain the charade that he wasn't Harry Potter.

"Yeah," continued Fred. "Y'know, the one on your forehead that looks suspiciously like the famous Harry Potter scar."

"The one you're trying to hide beneath that mop of yours," added George.

_And again, that bloody scar gives me away,_ thought Harry bitterly. _God, what I wouldn't give to be a Metamorphmagus at times like this._

"Harry?" said Ron, having stayed silent thus far. "Is it really you?"

Harry sighed and nodded.

Ron stared at him wide-eyed. "Bloody hell! What happened to you, mate?"

Harry looked at this reality's version of his best friend curiously. _He thinks I'm this reality's Harry. I guess that means my other self must be at the Dursleys,_ he reasoned. _I suppose that's probably for the best. I mean, if Mrs Weasley were to come out here and see two Harry Potters, she'd probably have a heart attack._

"Maybe we should go inside," suggested Fred, when Harry didn't respond.

"Then Harry here can perhaps explain why he looks like he's old enough to leave Hogwarts," added George as they led Harry into the house.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"What are you three doing back inside?" exclaimed Mrs Weasley as her sons entered the kitchen. "Surely you can't be finished degnoming the garden already…" She stopped when she realised her sons weren't alone. At first, she didn't recognise the long haired figure in the leather jacket. "Who is this?" she demanded. "What have I told you about inviting strangers into the house?"

"What about friends?" grinned George.

"Famous friends," added Fred with an equally ridiculous grin.

Mrs Weasley stood there looking at her two sons, then at the figure standing behind them. "Harry?" she gasped when she saw the distinctive scar on his forehead, dropping the plate she was holding. Ignoring the now shattered plate on the floor, she took a few steps forward and stood before Harry. He was a lot taller and his hair a lot longer than when she had last seen him as he and her sons had got off the Hogwarts Express nearly a month ago, but it was definitely him. "Is it really you?" she asked, echoing her youngest son's words.

Harry nodded.

"But… you…" stuttered Mrs Weasley. "You look so much… older…"

"It's complicated," sighed Harry.

"Well," interjected Fred. "I for one am interested…"

"In how you've ended up..." continued George.

"Looking older than our esteemed brother…" added Fred.

"Perfect Prefect Percy," finished George.

"And why you tried to lie to us," said Ron suddenly. "Gary," he added sarcastically.

Harry looked at Ron and nodded. "As I said, it's complicated," he said as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"So," said Fred. "What happened?"

"I'm going to go with 'botched spell turned you into an eighteen year old," said George.

Fred shook his head. "He looks more nineteen to me," he said. "But I think I'll go with 'time traveller', am I right Harry?"

Harry smirked at the twins. "Yours is the closest," he said, nodding at Fred. "There's a lot more to it than that though."

"You're from the future?" gasped Ron. "So that's why you said you weren't Harry, right?"

"Actually, in a way, I'm not," said Harry. "At least, not the one you know."

"What?" Ron almost shouted. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Mrs Weasley snapped. "I will not tolerate you using such language in this house!" She turned to Harry. "Sorry dear." she apologised. "Go on."

Harry looked at her in amazement. _Unbelievable! I've pretty much said that I'm not the Harry Potter they know and yet she's still acting as if everything's normal._

After gathering his thoughts, Harry took a deep breath and began to explain about his being from an alternate reality, hoping that no one would ask the obvious question.

"But Harry…" said Mrs Weasley, after he had told them of how his plan had gone wrong. "Why were you trying to go back in time?"

_Bugger!_ grimaced Harry as she asked this. _Oh well, I guess someone would've got the truth out of me sooner or later._ "Simple," he said plainly. "There was nothing left for me to live for."

There was a simultaneous gasp from around the table.

"But…"

"What…"

"How…"

"It doesn't matter!" said Harry, raising his voice slightly. "What matters is that, for now, I'm here, okay?"

No one said anything.

_Bloody hell_ thought Harry. _That's twice now I've shown the subtlety of a Hungarian Horntail. _"Sorry," he said, lowering his voice. "I just… don't really want to talk about it right now. Not here," The memory of The Burrow as it burned flashed before Harry's eyes when he said that. The others seemed to understand what he was getting at and said nothing.

Just then, they heard a gasp at the kitchen door. As Harry turned to see who it was, though he had a feeling he knew who it was already, he saw a familiar flash of red hair as the girl disappeared. Harry stared at the doorway where Ginny Weasley had just been standing, remembering the first time she had done that, nearly eighteen years ago.

"Ginny," said Ron, misinterpreting Harry's glance as being one of confusion."She's been talking about you… Harry, all summer," he explained, correcting himself as he said Harry's name.

Harry nodded as he remembered Ginny's childhood crush on him, trying not to wince at the singing valentine his other self would probably receive in about half a year's time.

"Yeah," agreed Fred. "Everything's 'Harry this' or 'Harry that', ever since she saw you… our you, on Platform Nine & Three-Quarters…"

"Fred!" scolded Mrs Weasley. "Go on, get out if you insist on making fun of your sister. Plus, I seriously doubt you boys have finished degnoming the garden. Go on, both of you," she commanded, addressing both Fred and George.

The twins nodded glumly and left the kitchen, knowing that it was pointless arguing with their mother. Ron stayed put, having not been told to join them. He looked at Harry curiously. "Y'know, you look different without your glasses," he noted.

"You mean these ones?" said Harry, pulling out a glasses case from his pocket.

"Oh," said Ron. "But why're you not wearing them?"

"I don't need them as much as I used to," explained Harry. "When I was about twenty, Hermione found this old spell that improved my eyesight a lot better than the one she found when we were at Hogwarts. I still need glasses if I'm gonna be reading a book or something, but not for other stuff,"

"Twenty?" said Ron, slightly confused until he remembered that Harry had said he was thirty years old, even though he didn't look it. "Oh. Right."

"You're not hungry, are you Harry?" asked Mrs Weasley suddenly.

Harry was about to refuse, when he realised that he was actually quite hungry – that was why he had grabbed that apple from the Potter's kitchen before he had 'moved on'. He immediately realised for the first time that he no longer had the apple. _Must've dropped it when that Gnome nearly KO'd me._ "Oh. Um… actually, I am, sort of…"

"Say no more," interrupted Mrs Weasley as she turned around and went to add some more food to the breakfast she was already cooking, pausing to 'reparo' the plate she had dropped earlier as she did so.

"Harry?" asked Ron suddenly. "I don't suppose you could tell me why our Harry hasn't been replying to out letters, could you?"

Harry looked at Ron for a second. _Better make sure first, _he thought. "You're about to start second year, right?" he asked.

Ron nodded slightly, wondering why Harry was asking. Harry then mumbled something that sounded like "Dobby," which confused Ron even more. "What?" he said.

Harry shook his head. "His mail's being blocked by a House-Elf," Harry explained. "Long story," he added, seeing Ron's confusion grow even more.

"So he won't have got the stuff we've sent for his birthday?" said Ron.

Harry nodded. Suddenly, something occurred to him. _Birthday?_ He turned to Ron. "Um... You guys weren't thinking of going to check on him, were you?" he asked, trying not to sound worried.

"Yeah," answered Ron. "We were going to go and bring him here on Friday if he hadn't answered soon."

Harry shook his head. "I'd go sooner if I were you," he advised. "In my reality, the House-Elf decided to ruin a business party my uncle had going. When that happened, the Dursleys locked me in my room and threw away the key. Even had a cat flap installed so they could hand me a little food every now and again. Hell, if you and the twins hadn't shown up in that old flying Anglia of yours, I probably would've starved to death…"

He immediately regretted saying that when he heard Mrs Weasley drop another plate. "Oh, Merlin," he heard her whisper in a horrified voice before watching her leave the kitchen.

Ron watched his mother leave the kitchen and grinned. "Nice one," he said. "We've been trying to convince Mum and Dad to go and get you for ages, but they just kept insisting we'd go and get you on Friday." He stopped when he saw the serious look on Harry's face. "You weren't kidding, were you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Oh," mumbled Ron. "Sorry."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Several hours later, Harry arrived at The Burrow, having just been collected by a very worried looking Mr and Mrs Weasley and taken to St Mungo's. He tried not to grimace as a fresh batch of pain emanated from one of his ribs. _I really wish Uncle Vernon would just buy a punching bag, _he thought irritably. _Then again, if he did, then he might have done a lot more damage…_

He was shown into the living room and told to sit down. Everyone then left, except for Mrs Weasley, who told him that there was someone who wanted to talk to him and that he should thank him for warning them about what the Dursleys had done.

"What? What d'you mean?" Harry stammered as Mrs Weasley left the room. "Who warned you?"

"I did."

Harry turned and saw a figure standing in the doorway to the kitchen. His hair was long and dark, hanging untidily down the sides of his face, some of it in his eyes. His eyes were a dull green and seemed to convey a feeling of loss. He was wearing a black leather jacket, which hung loosely on him but seemed to go well with his dark blue jeans. Something about him seemed very familiar, but Harry couldn't remember ever seeing this person before. _Have I seen him at Hogwarts? _Harry wondered. _He looks like he could be in sixth or seventh year, but…_

He stopped in mid-thought when he saw a very familiar looking scar on the stranger's forehead. He gaped at the stranger disbelievingly, his mouth hanging open.

"It's always the give-away, isn't it?" said the stranger in an amused voice.

"Who…" stuttered Harry, finally finding his voice. "Who are you?"

The stranger with the lightning shaped scar sighed. "It's a long story."

"Is there a short version?" asked Harry.

The stranger in the leather jacket smirked. "Alright. I'll try," he said. "I'm you. That is, I am Harry Potter, just from a different reality."

_Different reality? _thought Harry incredulously. _God, I'm never gonna get used to all this weird Wizard stuff._

"Don't worry," said the stranger. "You will."

"Wh…" stammered Harry. "How did you…?"

The Harry Potter from a 'different reality' tapped his forehead with his index and middle fingers. "Legilimency," he said.

"Legili-what?" asked Harry confused.

"Thought reading," the 'other' Harry elaborated.

Harry sat there, ignoring the pain in his chest, trying to figure out what he was supposed to think. "So what you're saying," said Harry after a slight pause, "Is you're another version of me, from another universe, that can read minds."

The stranger shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Okay," said Harry uncertainly. "So how'd you know about…"

"About what the Dursleys were doing to you?" finished the older looking Harry. "Simple. They did the same to me when I was your age." He looked at Harry's chest. "Though my Uncle Vernon was probably a bit more concerned with keeping up appearances with the neighbours than yours was."

Harry nodded, trying to ignore his three formerly cracked ribs, which had just been healed, but would still hurt for a while. "Y'know, the Healer said if I hadn't been seen to when I had, I would've ended up a lot worse off."

The other Harry nodded. "That must be it then," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," mumbled Harry.

There was an awkward silence. Harry looked at the younger him, trying to figure out how to answer the boy's next question, if he ever plucked up the courage to actually ask it. Eventually, he did.

"So, uh, why are you here?" the younger Harry asked. "I mean, if you're not from this… reality…"

"Well, like I said, it's a long story," said Harry. "I suppose the others could tell you roughly how I got here. But I guess you have a right to get the story straight from me."

He sat down in a nearby chair and began to speak. "Basically, what happened is that I tried to go back in time and correct a few mistakes. Unfortunately, as you probably already know, nothing we ever try to do ever goes according to plan."

The other Harry nodded – the 'Harry Potter luck' was almost as much of a curse as fame he had to endure for being the 'Boy-Who-Lived'.

"Anyway, the whole plan revolved around my death," continued Harry. "I would use the Avada Kedavra on myself and my memories would go back in time and hopefully merge with my eleven-year-old self. But, typical Harry Potter luck, just as I tried to put this plan of mine into action, I found out that the Avada Kedavra doesn't have any effect on me."

"You mean… the Killing Curse doesn't… kill you?" stammered the younger Harry, stunned by this revelation.

"Well, it didn't kill me when I tried it, so I guess I am immune to it," replied Harry. "Of course, I'm not exactly gonna try it again anytime soon and I wouldn't recommend you trying it out either."

Harry watched his other self smirk at his attempt to lighten the mood of the conversation. _Good,_ thought Harry. _Just don't ask me…_

"So why'd you want to go back in time anyway?"

_Bugger, _sighed Harry. "I… well… uh." He stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "There was nothing left for me in my time." he said quietly.

"Nothing?" queried the younger Harry, hoping he had misunderstood his other self's answer.

Harry nodded sadly. "The Second War took away everyone and everything I ever cared about," he said. "By the time I finally defeated Voldemort, everyone was long dead." He paused slightly before continuing. "I thought if I could go back and do things differently, I could make things better. But I guess that was just too much to ask for…"

XxXxXxXxXxX

"What did 'e say?" murmured Fred from behind the living room door.

"Dunno," responded George.

"He said he wanted to go back and do things differently, I think," answered Ron.

"Ssshhh!" hissed Ginny. "They're still talking."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"You do realise that the twins're probably right outside the door, listening in, right?" said the younger Harry.

The older Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter – you'll probably tell them about this conversation anyway."

"Is that another example of your thought-reading?" grinned Harry's other self.

"Nope," said Harry, returning the grin. "I just know that I would have done the same. I always did."

"Did," repeated the other Harry, quietly. It suddenly hit him, what the Harry in the leather jacket had just said – he had lost everyone. His versions of the Weasleys, Hermione, Dumbledore, everyone at Hogwarts, all of them were dead – all because of Voldemort, if what this other him was saying was true. _I can't let that happen, _he vowed. _I won't let that happen!_ "I don't suppose you could tell me what went wrong for you, could you?" he asked.

"I wish I could," said Harry. "But I don't think I've got much time. I'll give you this bit of advice though – don't be afraid to accept the help of others. Believe me, all it does is hurt the feelings of others and makes things harder for you."

The younger Harry nodded.

"And don't isolate yourself from people in the hope they'll not suffer because of you," Harry added. "Especially not from the person you love, whoever that may end up being in this reality."

He felt the picture in his jacket pocket and tried not to think of Ginny.

"Because it didn't work," continued Harry. "She died anyway."

"Who did?" the other Harry asked in a quiet voice.

Harry took the picture out of his pocket and handed it to his other self. "Six months after this picture was taken, she was dead." He breathed sharply, the memory of Ginny dying in his arms among the ruins of Hogwarts flowing through his mind.

Harry's other self looked at the picture curiously. He immediately recognised himself, same scruffy hair, same glasses, same scar, sitting beside an almost familiar looking redhead with soft, freckled skin and brown eyes, her arms wrapped around his other self's shoulders.

_Where have I seen her before? _he wondered. _Well, she'll be a lot younger than she is in this picture…_ Suddenly, he realised that he had in fact seen a younger version of this girl before. Nearly a month ago, as he got off the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine & Three-Quarters, he had seen her standing alongside her mother, waiting to greet her brothers and hoping to catch a glimpse of 'him' – she was probably in this house right at that moment.

"Ginny?" he gasped, staring at the picture then at the other Harry in the leather jacket.

The Harry in the leather jacket took the picture back and looked at it. "I thought if I broke off our relationship, then Voldemort would leave her alone and she wouldn't get hurt." His voice was starting to shake slightly. "But it didn't make any difference. Voldemort led a Death Eater attack on Hogwarts and Ginny was wounded during the fighting – she only lived long enough to die just after I found her among the rubble…"

XxXxXxXxXxX

One the other side of the door, the three brothers looked at their sister, who, rather than going red as the Weasleys tended to do, was starting to go pale. She ignored them – several conflicting voices in her mind were contending for her attention.

_You're dead? _exclaimed one. _Oh Merlin, Mum'll kill you if she finds out you get yourself killed!_

_But it's not you he's talking about,_ reasoned another. _He's talking about some other you. _

_What about what he just said? _interjected a third voice. _Y'know, about you being the one he loved?_

_But our Harry barely knows you, _another voice pointed out. _I mean, our Harry might not even like you like this other one does._

"… look after her, alright?" she heard the other Harry say behind the door.

She froze when she heard their Harry's answer. "Alright," he said in a quiet voice. "I'll keep an eye on her."

_Did he just…? _asked one voice.

_I think he did,_ replied another voice.

_Is he talking about…? _said another.

_Maybe he does care! _thought another one.

"Ginny?" said Ron. "Are you okay?"

She looked at her brother and nodded. "Yeah. I think so. I just…"

Suddenly, the four Weasleys heard a strange sound emanating from the living room. They burst through the door, just in time to witness the Harry Potter who had lost everything disappear in a blinding flash of pale blue light.

-

**Author's Notes**

Well, first of all, I wrote this while sitting in a hospital bed while waiting for/recovering from an operation, so be gentle if it's no good. Personally, I'm considering this a filler chapter while I get my thoughts together.

I'd also like to thank you all for the very encouraging feedback...

Selfless!Harry, eh? I don't think I've seen that one before. Does that mean I've become a trendsetter?

Good news for Marquerida, who hoped that my Harry will stay in a reality for more than one chapter – I'm currently on the third chapter of the next reality, (One that sets the scene, the other two featuring The Lone Traveller.). Also, as I'm writing, I'm hearing a voice in the back of my mind yelling _Spin-off_, which I might do if the next reality goes down well. Plus, there's always the possible story of William 'The Wandless Wonder' Potter…


	7. CHAPTER 6 The House of the Serpent

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website **– For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER SIX – The House of the Serpent.**

"Is it okay if I sit here?" asked a red-haired boy with freckles.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted.

"Yeah, it's okay," said a boy with untidy brown hair and hazel eyes.

Harry looked at his near-identical twin brother, trying to hide his frustration. _Can't he let me speak, just for once?_ Harry wondered as he regarded his slightly older brother. _Why does him being a bloody celebrity mean I'm not even allowed to speak?_ As his brother began speaking to the red-haired boy, who Harry soon recognised as being one of the Weasleys, Harry glanced at the scar across his brother's forehead. It was a lot bigger and more ragged than his own, which was smaller and tidier, if such a word could be applied to a scar. Harry knew exactly how his brother had received that gash across his forehead – he had relived that fateful Halloween night in his dreams many times. As the Dark Lord Voldemort tried to kill Harry with an Avada Kedavra, the spell had rebounded, most of it annihilating the Dark Lord's body. Some of the curse, however, had sent several large splinters of wood from the cot flying everywhere. One such piece of wood had collided with Harry's twin, leaving a large, jagged, almost lightning shaped scar across his brother's head. Since then, Michael Stephen Potter had become famous the world over as 'The Boy Who Lived', the one who had vanquished Voldemort.

_Meanwhile, the real 'Boy Who Lived' gets ignored. _thought Harry bitterly. Though this was a slight exaggeration, it was true to the extent that his brother had always received more than his fair share of parental attention, and as such, Harry yearned to break free of his brother's shadow and prove himself. _I'll show them,_ Harry thought. _They'll have to notice me when I out-perform him in just about everything. _Harry was looking forward to his parents seeing his first report. After all, he had not spent his life moping and sulking about his twin's unearned fame and attention. He had raided the library in their house in Godric's Hollow and had learnt as much as he possibly could. Right now, as he was about to enter his first year at Hogwarts, his knowledge was probably on par with that of a second or third year, or perhaps even a fourth year.

Harry was distracted from his thoughts as the compartment door opened and a girl with long, bushy hair entered. "Have you seen a Toad anywhere?" she asked. Everyone present shook their heads. She then resumed the search for the errant Toad as the Weasley, who had identified himself as being Ron Weasley, was trying to turn his pet rat yellow, using a spell one of his older brothers had apparently given him. The girl, hearing the obviously fake spell, commented on it before introducing herself as 'Hermione Granger'.

"Ron Weasley," said Ron, his ears going red with embarrassment at Hermione's comment about the fake spell.

"I'm Michael," said Harry's brother. "Michael Potter, and this is my little brother, Harry."

Harry closed his mouth again. _Merlin, can't he even let me introduce myself? I mean, he hasn't let me say a damn word since we got on this train. _thought Harry irritably. _And since when am I his 'little' brother. Yes, I am younger than him by, like, two minutes, but I'm his TWIN brother, not his 'little' brother!_

A few minutes later, the owner of the lost Toad, joined them in the compartment. Harry and Michael already knew Neville Longbottom – both their families were good friends. They all started to talk, except for Harry, who didn't seem to be a part of the conversation, no matter how hard he tried to join in. Eventually, after yet another interruption by Michael, Harry got up and went to leave the compartment.

"Hey, bro'," said Michael. "Where're you going?"

Harry glared at his brother, but said nothing and left the compartment.

"What's wrong with him?" Ron asked, confused.

Michael shrugged. "Dunno," he said plainly. "I gave up trying to understand him a long time ago."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry walked through the train until he found a compartment that wasn't full. The sole occupant looked up as Harry entered.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" Harry asked, echoing Ron Weasley's words.

The boy, who looked about Harry's age, nodded and Harry sat down. He looked at Harry for a few seconds before sitting up slightly. "Hold on… you're…" the boy began.

Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the traditional 'you're Michael Potter's brother, aren't you?' line.

"… Harry Potter, right?" the boy finished.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked. _Did he just…? He did! He actually recognised me as Harry Potter!_ Harry nodded slightly, overwhelmed at not being referred to as 'Michael's brother' for once.

The other boy nodded. "I thought I recognised you from somewhere," he said. "You and your family came over to dinner at mine one time, remember?"

Harry looked at the boy with the dark blue eyes and dark, slightly curly hair. Now he thought about it, he did recognise the boy from somewhere. He tried thinking back to all the dinners his family had been invited to. "Zabini," remembered Harry after a slight pause. "Blaise Zabini, right?"

The boy grinned. "Yup. That's me."

The two boys talked for a while about nothing in particular. After telling each other about their families were getting on, the subject of Howarts came up.

"So, which house do you think you'll end up in?" asked Blaise.

"Dunno," shrugged Harry. "My Dad wants me and my brother to end up in Gryffindor, like him and Mum. Personally, I don't really mind, just as long as it's not the same one as Michael."

Blaise looked at Harry curiously. "You two don't get along, do you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. I mean, we've never been real brothers if you think about it. He's been busy basking in the attention of the world, while I've been pretty much ignored. Y'know, I bet my Dad probably couldn't even tell you anything about me. Hobbies, likes and dislikes, outlook on life – nothing.

Blaise nodded. "I got that impression when you came around last year. The fact that everyone paid attention to your brother and everything."

"Everyone but you," Harry noted. Blaise had in fact seemed a lot more interested in Harry than Michael, though Harry couldn't think for the life of him why.

"Yeah, well…" said Blaise modestly. He changed the subject back to the Sorting. "Anyway, neither of my parents went to Hogwarts, so I don't have any parental templates to follow, though they're both hoping I go into Slytherin." He paused slightly, thinking of his non-Death Eater, but still fanatic Pureblood parents. "Besides, whatever it is that puts you into each house is supposed to sort you based on personality."

"Yeah, I read about it somewhere," nodded Harry. "Each house places an emphasis on one particular aspect. For Gryffindors, it's courage. For Ravenclaws, it's intelligence. For Hufflepuffs, it's loyalty and hard work. And with Slytherin, it's ambition and the will to prove yourself." _That's probably where I'll end up_, thought Harry as he said this.

"I wonder what it is that sorts us?" wondered Blaise. "A couple of twins in third year said we had to wrestle Trolls and a fifth year said they put our names in a hat and get the heads of house to pick names."

Harry smirked at these suggestions, though the second one was probably fairly close to the truth – he had overheard his parents talking about it the previous day and had heard them mention something called the 'Sorting Hat'. "Well, if it's the Trolls, we can always send Michael in first and hope the 'Boy-Who-Lived' softens them up enough for us," he said.

Blaise chuckled slightly at this suggestion. "Somehow I doubt it would do us much good, he said, before looking at Harry with a serious look on his face. "He's not the Boy-Who-Lived, is he?" he said suddenly.

Harry looked at Blaise, unsure how to react. "How… what makes you think that?" stuttered Harry.

Blaise looked at Harry and nodded slightly. "I thought so," he said. "Your scar looks more like a side-effect of a curse than your brother's does."

"Um, well…" Harry tried to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"Plus, he seems too normal. You, on the other hand, aren't," continued Blaise.

"Oh," said Harry sarcastically. "Thanks."

"Sorry. That came out wrong," apologised Blaise. "What I mean is that there's something about you that just seems… different."

Harry nodded, but said nothing.

"So, uh..." said Blaise cautiously, "What really happened?"

Harry sighed, but before he could say anything, his brother stuck his head through the compartment door.

"There you are," he said. "C'mon bro', we're nearly at Hogwarts."

Harry cursed his brother under his breath as he and Blaise got up to go and change into their school robes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Potter, Harry." Professor McGonagall called out.

Harry stepped forward, sat on the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

_Ah, a Potter, _said the voice of the Sorting Hat, echoing in Harry's mind. _I must say it's been a while. Now, let's see. Well, you are very different from your parents. Indeed, I feel you would fit in well in any of the four houses. You have plenty of courage, of which Gryffindor would most certainly have approved. You are very loyal to those you feel deserve your loyalty, so Hufflepuff is certainly an option as well. You also have a good thirst for knowledge, which would serve you well in Ravenclaw. However, your thirst to prove yourself worthy is stronger – very strong indeed. Perhaps Slytherin would serve you best – unless you have any preferences, young Potter._

_Just don't put me with my brother, _thought Harry, hoping that this strange hat could hear him.

_Ah, I see you desire to be free of your brother's proverbial shadow. In that case, I have made my choice, _said the voice of the Hat._ Harry James Potter, I hereby place you in _"SLYTHERIN!!!"

Harry closed his eyes as the hat yelled out that last word, earning several gasps from around the hall. Ignoring them, Harry removed the hat and turned to his brother, who was gaping at him as if he were Voldemort himself.

"Your turn, 'brother'," he smirked before joining the Slytherin table.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning, he had received a Howler from his father, admonishing him for becoming a Slytherin – it had been an interesting start to his first day. Blaise, who had also been sorted into Slytherin and now shared a dorm with Harry, had been sympathetic and had even offered to supply Harry with some Howler parchment, should Harry decide to respond to his father's humiliating scolding. Harry had refused, instead trying to think of a way at getting back at Michael, who had no doubt written to their parents and told them of Harry's sorting. That night however, a letter had come from his mother…

_Dear Harry_

_I hope this letter finds you well and I hope the Howler your father sent you wasn't too embarrassing for you. I remember seeing a few friends, as well as your father, receive some very nasty Howlers when I was at Hogwarts._

_I just wanted to tell you that your father feels very bad about how he reacted and sends his apologies. I also wanted you to know that, whatever you do, your father and I are very proud of you. I just wanted you to know that so you know that there's no need to try and 'prove yourself'. If we have ever made you feel inferior in any way, then I am very sorry, but please don't feel you have to outdo your brother or make us 'recognise your worth'. _

_You are my son. I love you and am very proud of you – nothing will ever change that. Please remember that. _

_Lots of Love_

_Mum_

Harry still read and re-read that letter, even now, nearly three months later. He wished he could take his mother's advice, but he couldn't – seeing his brother being constantly praised for his successes only seemed to make Harry even more determined to outdo the supposed 'Boy-Who-Lived', despite the fact that he was already doing so. He had already become the youngest Seeker in over a century for the Slytherin team and was constantly top of his class, even in Potions, where he was the only Slytherin who ever had points deducted by Professor Snape, though he noticed this was happening less and less as time went by. In fact, Harry seemed to get on with all his teachers, with the exception of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell, who seemed to want to stay as far away from Harry as possible. Other than that and the twinges he occasionally felt in his forehead, everything was going well.

However, it was nearing Christmas, and Harry wasn't looking forward to going home. Despite his mother's reassurances, Harry seriously doubted that his father had 'forgiven' him for becoming a student of 'the House of the Serpent', as he had referred to Slytherin in the Howler, even if he had somehow been persuaded to buy Harry a Nimbus 2000 for use in the Quidditch team. He also wasn't looking forward to having to spend time with his brother and younger sister. He had gotten used to spending time with his friends and exchanging some rather vicious insults with Draco Malfoy and his lackeys, while only having to see his twin brother in the classes shared by Gryffindor and Slytherin. Harry hadn't even spoken to his brother since he had visited Michael in the Hospital Wing after a Mountain Troll had been released in the castle. However, the visit hadn't gone very well as they had merely ended up arguing about Merlin knew what until Madam Pomfrey had dismissed him.

Harry thought briefly of the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They got along fine, were always together, were constantly finishing each other's sentences and always seemed to know what the other was thinking. Harry sighed – he and Michael had never been like that, and they probably never would.

"Hey Hal," greeted Blaise, using the nickname Spencer Westwood had come up with for Harry as he sat himself down on a nearby chair.

"Hey there Blaze," Harry responded, using the nickname he had come up with for his friend. "What's up?"

"Well, the sign-up list for those staying over Christmas is up on the notice board," said Blaise. "Unfortunately, my parents want me back home though. Apparently they're organising a big family get-together, and I've been told I have to be there."

Harry nodded. "Oh well. Looks like I'll have to go home after all, else I'll have to stay here on my own, seeing as Rodge and Spence are both going home too."

"Cuthbert's staying," noted Blaise.

Harry looked at Blaise incredulously. "What? You're not seriously suggesting I stay here with that obnoxious git?"

"Good point," agreed Blaise. "Look, I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry about it," interrupted Harry, not wanting to hear Blaise apologise for something he didn't need to apologise for. "Besides, you fit in with your family as I do with mine. I mean, if what you told me about their opinions on Muggle-borns is true…" He trailed off, not wanting to continue.

"So, you're going home then?" asked Blaise after a slight pause.

"Guess so," shrugged Harry. "Oh well…"

There was another pause before Blaise decided to change the subject.

Eventually, after Harry had finished an essay for Herbology, he decided to try and get some sleep. He changed into his pyjamas and collapsed onto his bed. _Quidditch practice tomorrow_, he remembered as he lay there staring at the ceiling. _Hopefully Flint'll be in a good mood tomorrow._ He turned his head towards the window. _Oh, who am I kidding? Flint always takes Quidditch way too seriously, though he might not be so serious since we've already trounced Gryffindor._ He smirked to himself as he remembered seeing everyone's faces after he had caught the Snitch and won the game for Slytherin, despite someone trying to jinx his broom while he was flying it. _I wonder who it was?_ Harry thought. At the moment, there were two suspects as far as Harry was concerned – Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell.

Snape was not the biggest fan of anyone named Potter after all, and he would probably love an excuse to make Harry's life a living hell. However, making Slytherin lose a Quidditch game seemed a little extreme to Harry. Snape took the competition between the four houses very seriously and would have sooner gnawed off his own arm than allow Gryffindor to gain any advantage over Slytherin in the contention for the House Cup.

Quirrell was a different story. The stuttering Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher didn't seem to be the type of person who would try to jinx someone in the middle of a Quidditch match, attended by the whole school, but the way Quirrell looked at him made Harry wonder. _Why does he look at me like that?_ Harry asked himself. Every time Quirrell looked at him, Harry could see a strange combination of fear and hatred in the Professor's eyes. Then there was the matter of his scar – the twinges he felt seemed to happen mostly when Quirrell was around. _Maybe I should tell someone,_ Harry considered. _I mean, something must be causing it. Maybe if I go to Dumbledore… No, he probably won't listen. After all, according to them, my scar's just a side effect of my proximity to Voldemort and Michael that night. Dumbledore'll just ask Michael if he's felt anything, Michael'll say 'no' because his scar was made by a bit of splintered wood and I'll probably be dismissed as an attention-seeker or some other piece of Hippogriff crap._

Harry cleared his mind of all thought and closed his eyes. Before long, Harry had fallen asleep. However, had he stayed awake a few seconds longer, he might have seen through the window a bright blue glow emanating from near the lake.

-

**Author's Note**

Before anyone says anything…

1) This is NOT a typical 'Harry becomes a nasty Slytherin/friend of Malfoy/friend of Snape etc' storyline. I've never been to big a fan of the idea that all Slytherins are nasty racist bastards, otherwise why would they have such a house that encourages it? Hal, Blaze, Rodge & Spence are only in Slytherin because they're either ambitious, out to prove themselves or eager to do well. In fact, you'll see later exactly what they think of Malfoy & co. later on.

and

2) This is NOT a typical 'Harry is the brother of the 'Boy-Who-Lived'/is abused/neglected/hated by his parents etc' story. Again, I've never been a great fan of the majority of them, though I have seen some good ones. The fact that Michael, the 'Boy-Who-Lived', would inevitably get more attention than Harry should be more than enough to make Harry be distant from the rest of his family and endeavour to 'prove everyone wrong' once he got the chance. Plus, I haven't made Harry's brother a spoilt brat/arrogant bastard like most others tend to do, even if he does come across as a bit overbearing in this chapter. Harry's parents, usually written as Dursley-a-likes, do care about Harry, even if James is still a bit prejudiced against Slytherins.

Concerning Blaise Zabini – As I have said before, I haven't read any Harry Potter in a long time, so I've had to rely on other fics and my own initiative in order to provide a physical description of young Zabini. The dark, curly hair is from a fic. The dark blue eyes is something I made up. Apologies to any Zabini fans who may know better.

As I said in the last chapter's notes, I'm considering doing a spin-off for this reality. Any opinions of whether I should or not would be greatly appreciated.


	8. CHAPTER 7 Familiar Surroundings

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER SEVEN – Familiar Surroundings.**

When Harry's vision returned, he found himself standing in the dim light of an early moon. _Now where…?_ He stopped in mid thought, realising that the sound he was hearing was water. He turned his head slightly and saw the lake glistening in the moonlight. _I've been here before, _he thought. Suddenly, it dawned on him. _No way…_ he thought as he spun around and saw the outline of the mighty walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.

The second he saw the castle, Harry broke into a run. _It's really here! Hogwarts is here and it's still standing! The school's still here and everyone'll still be alive…_ He stopped suddenly, just short of the main doors as he realised that bursting into Hogwarts in the middle of the night was the worst possible move he could make at this point, even if there wasn't the possibility of there being another him inside. Besides, even though he knew where he was, he had no way of knowing when he was. He looked at his watch, which had again somehow synchronised itself to this reality's time zone. The watch showed that it was just before midnight and, when Harry held down the 'date' button, told him that it was early December, though Harry had guessed that it was winter from the frost on the ground. Unfortunately, the 'date' function on his watch didn't state the year. _Great! For all I know, I haven't even been born yet. I could end up bumping into the Marauders or even Riddle. _Deciding to play it safe, Harry cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself before entering the castle.

_God, it's just like I remember it, _he thought as he wandered through the corridors. _The suits of armour are the same, the portraits are the same, the carpets are the same, everything's the same…_

"Who goes there?" yelled a voice that almost made Harry jump.

_Same ghosts…_ thought Harry as he watched Peeves the Poltergeist floating down the corridor ahead of him.

"I may not see you, but I know you are there, stranger," Peeves cackled. "What I want to know is, who stalks these halls at night, not wishing to be seen? Be you ghostie or ghoulie, or perhaps you be wee student beastie, out of bed and looking for trouble?"

"Drop dead Peeves," muttered Harry out loud.

Peeves grinned at the unseen voice. "Already have."

"Encore!" Harry growled as he walked straight past Peeves, leaving the Poltergeist to do whatever he wanted to do in response. A loud clatter behind him told Harry that Peeves had opted for mindless vandalism, as he always did.

Harry quickly decided to make his way towards the Gryffindor common room, hoping that he might recognise someone and thus work out when he was. Unfortunately, when Harry finally reached the entrance to the common room, he realised that there was one profound obstacle. He approached the portrait of the Fat Lady carefully, trying not to make a sound that might wake her. He paused slightly. _Bloody hell, Harry! Are you a wizard or not?_ He took his wand out of his jacket pocket. "Silencio," he muttered, casting a Silencing Charm on himself. _Well, I can't be seen and I can't be heard, so all I have to worry about now is bumping into someone, though I doubt there's much danger of that if I can't even get in._ He looked at the sleeping portrait with frustration, wishing he could just walk through the wall like a ghost. He probably could have easily forced his way through the portrait hole, but doing that would cause more problems than it would solve._ Now what?_ Harry thought irritably.

All of a sudden, the portrait hole swung open.

"Wh… who… who's that?" exclaimed a startled Fat Lady. "Who's there?"

"It's just me," said a very familiar voice.

"Minerva," said the Fat Lady. "Oh thank goodness. I thought you were a student."

Harry watched, unseen, as Professor McGonagall stepped out of the portrait hole and addressed the portrait. "Don't worry. The common room's empty now. I've just sent Potter and his friends up to their beds and…"

_Potter?_ thought Harry. _But which one does she mean? Is she talking about me? I mean, she looks the same as she did when I was at Hogwarts, but then again, that doesn't necessarily mean this is my era. After all, she could still be talking about my Dad…_

As Harry thought this, he realised that the portrait hole was still open. _This's probably the only chance I'm gonna get._ Quickly but carefully, Harry sprang up past the Deputy Headmistress and through the portrait hole.

He took a few steps forward into the common room as McGonagall bid the Fat Lady good night and closed the portrait hole. _Well, _he thought as he regarded the empty common room, _I never thought I'd ever see this room again. Then again, I never thought I'd see Hogwarts again in one piece._ He looked at his watch again – quarter past midnight. _Well, I could go into one of the dorms and find out which Potter McGonagall was talking about, but waking everyone up in the middle of the night might not be the best way to introduce myself to this reality, _he thought, picturing the whole of Gryffindor gaping at him while all the teachers had their wands trained on him, just like the wedding party in the first reality. He walked up to one of the sofas. _Maybe I should try and get some sleep. I mean, I'm probably not gonna get many chances in the near future…_

He slumped down onto one of the sofas and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep for the first time since his 'journey' had begun.

XxXxXxXxXx

"Wake up!" Harry heard a voice shout as a pillow flew past his head. "We've got Potions first and you know how Snape is if any of us are late!"

Harry rolled over and rolled his eyes. _Nice try Blaise,_ he thought – today was Saturday, after all. "Blaze," Harry mumbled. "One day, I swear you're gonna try that on someone with a lot less patience than me, and on that day, you'll find out exactly what those beds in the Hospital Wing are like to sleep on."

"You've already told us," grinned Blaise. He turned to the others. "C'mon guys, help me out here."

"How about saying 'please'?" said Cuthbert Garrett sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he said this.

"What about that jinx I read about?" interjected Roger Appleby "You know, the one involving the ice cold water."

Spencer Westwood sighed. "Harry. I've just looked at Rodge's alarm clock and we now have just over ten minutes left if we want any breakfast."

Harry, realising that he was feeling quite hungry, sat up and looked at his watch. "Excellent point, Spence," he grinned. "Even though you were lying about the time, that's still the best reason for getting up I've heard so far,

"Better than freezing cold water?" said Roger.

"Oh, shut up, Appleby," muttered Cuthbert as he finished dressing himself in his usual robes before leaving the dormitory.

"Merlin, no wonder he gets on so well with Malfoy and co," sighed Harry as he got out of his bed.

"Bloody pureblood fanatic bastards," muttered Spencer as he finished buttoning up his shirt.

"Guys," interrupted Roger. "It's okay…"

"Rodge," said Blaise. "They're wrong. We all know that. You don't have to defend them, especially after what they've said about you."

Roger shook his head. "I don't care what they believe. It doesn't make any difference whether they like me or not. I'm Muggle-born and there's nothing I can do about what they think."

"That doesn't mean you should let them get away with being pureblood fanatic bastards," said Spencer.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"Well, I don't know 'bout the rest of you," said Harry suddenly as he pulled a sweater over his head and put on his glasses. "But I fancy some breakfast."

"Excellent idea, Hal," grinned Spencer.

Blaise nodded in agreement. "Well, we'd better get down there now then, before all the good food's gone."

With that, the four friends left the dormitory and headed for the Great Hall.

XxXxXxXxX

"_Oh my god!_"_ Hermione sobbed when the three of them arrived at the scene of the latest Death Eater attack_

"_No!_"_ gasped Ron._

_Harry regarded the scene with sheer horror but said nothing – words couldn't adequately express his feelings as he and his friends started searching the rubble of what had once been Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardy, looking for survivors._

_Not long after they had split up, Harry had found the body of Neville Longbottom, the look on his face still determined and defiant. Nearby, her stomach reduced to a messy pulp, was the corpse of the woman who had killed Harry's godfather and tortured Neville's parents into insanity. Harry couldn't help but grin when he saw what Neville had obviously done to Bellatrix LeStrange. "Good for you, Nev',_"_ he muttered, hoping that Neville had known he had finally avenged his parents before he died. Suddenly, he heard a soft moan from the rubble nearby. Harry rushed over, trying to find the survivor._

"_Ginny!_"_ he exclaimed when he found his best friend's sister, half buried in the rubble._

"_Harry?_"_ she whispered when she heard Harry's voice. She tried to move but winced as the pain overwhelmed her._

"_No, don't try to move,_"_ Harry said, trying to sound calm and in control of the situation. "Guys!_"_ he yelled. "Over here!_"

_He was about to start trying to dig her out of the rubble when she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Harry,_"_ she gasped as she struggled to breathe. "I'm sorry. We… we did the best we could, but… there was just… too many…_"

"_It's okay,_"_ whispered Harry, the tears welling in his eyes. "You did great._"

"_Really?_"_ Ginny breathed heavily._

_Harry nodded as a tear began to trickle down his cheek. "Yeah. They're all gone now," he said, trying to smile for Ginny's sake. "They all ran away._"

_Ginny tried to laugh but spluttered slightly as she began to taste her own blood._

"_Ginny!_"_ said Harry as he held her in his arms. "Just hold on._"

"_Harry! Where are you?_"_ he heard Ron's voice yelling in the near distance._

"_Over here!_"_ Harry yelled back as he pointed his wand in the air and sent out a bright red light to indicate their position._

"_Harry,_"_ wheezed Ginny, "I…_"

"_No!_"_ whispered Harry as he felt her grip on his arm weakening. "Please…_"

"_I… love…_"_ she managed say as she let go of Harry's arm._

"_No! Ginny, please…_"_ Harry pleaded. _

_But it was too late – Ginevra Molly Weasley was gone, and nothing Harry could do would ever bring her back. _

_As he cradled the now lifeless body of the one he loved, Harry James Potter began to weep._

XxXxXxXxX

Harry awoke from his troubled sleep and found himself lying on the floor. "Must've fallen off the sofa…" he muttered to himself as he slowly got to his feet. Realising that his Disillusionment Charm, and possibly his Silencing Charm, had most likely worn off, he re-cast them. Safe once again in the knowledge that no one would see or hear him, Harry glanced around the common room, which was bathed in the light of the morning sun. He looked at his watch – twenty-five past eight in the morning. _Must be the weekend,_ Harry reckoned as he saw that the common room was empty. Had it been a weekday, people would have been up already. _I suppose that's a good thing,_ Harry thought. _If there're no classes, then I'm more likely to see someone I know and figure out when I am._

Harry sat down and waited for the Gryffindor students of this reality to start getting up. He didn't have to wait long as students of all ages started to emerge from their dorms. As he watched, Harry saw a few faces he recognised. _Okay, I'm sure I just saw Lavender Brown & Parvati Patil going through the portrait hole just now and I definitely saw Dean Thomas & Seamus Finnigan coming out of our old dorm, so I think it's safe to say there's another me somewhere…_

Harry soon noticed a girl with brown, bushy hair making her way across the common room towards the staircase to what was no doubt the dorm this reality's Harry shared with Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus. _Hermione, _thought Harry as he stood up and watched her shout something up the staircase.

"Yeah, yeah, we're coming!" he heard an irritated voice yell back as he approached Hermione carefully.

Harry watched as a young Ron Weasley emerged from the dormitory, closely followed by a boy with scruffy brown hair and a large, jagged scar on his forehead, just visible under his fringe. Harry looked at the boy suspiciously. _Hold on. That's not me, is it?_ He took a few steps closer to the three. _That's not me!_ Harry concluded when he got a closer look. _His hair's lighter than mine, his face is rounder, his eyes are brown instead of green and he's not wearing glasses. Plus, his scar is different…_

"Well? What're we waiting for?" said the boy cheerfully. "Are we going for breakfast or not?"

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "I'm with Michael. Are we going or not?"

Hermione shook her head and muttered something under her breath as the three of them started walking towards the portrait hole, leaving Harry standing there, very confused.

_Michael?_ thought Harry as he began to follow them. _What the hell…?_

_-_

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Thought I'd better say a few things…

**Differences between TLT & NoFP Harrys – **Just thought I'd better say that, although their experiences are very similar (Same deaths, plan to go back in time etc), they aren't the same character and there are some differences. For example, my Harry was/is immune to the Avada Kedavra whereas NoFP Harry wasn't. My Harry getting to Ginny just in time for her to die is another such difference, though I do refer to NoFP for parts of my Harry's backstory.

**Junky – **Not including the ones we've seen so far, I have written down at least 19 possible ideas for alternate realities. Some of them are the sort that have been seen before (Abused Harry, The Marauders Era, Harry in Azkaban etc) while others aren't so generic, I hope. Either way, I don't think anyone has to worry about me running out of any ideas any time soon.

**S'TarKan** – Concerning Harry blurting something out. Listen to what Michael says in the next chapter when he talks about Harry visiting him in the Hospital Wing (Mentioned in the last chapter). That isn't the only time something like that has happened, as I'll probably explain if I do the spin-off.

**Lady FoxFire** – I agree that it might be hard to tell at times which Harry is which, but I do try to make it clear in any way I can. The best example I can give of this is the nickname 'Hal' in this reality.

Next chapter's nearly done and'll hopefully be up soon.


	9. CHAPTER 8 Meeting 'The Guys'

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER EIGHT – Meeting 'The Guys'.**

_So, is that this reality's version of me? _wondered Harry as he watched 'Michael' follow Ron & Hermione into the Great Hall. _Or is he some alternate sibling I never had? If that's the case, then where am I? Am I even here at Hogwarts?_

Harry stared involuntarily at the usual splendour of the Great Hall as he entered. Already, it was packed full of students, eating breakfast and probably discussing their plans for the day. It was a stark contrast to empty, debris filled space that Harry had seen when he was last at Hogwarts. He looked around the bustling hall, his eyes immediately settling on the teacher's table. There he recognised Professors Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, Trelawney…

_Dumbledore!_ he exclaimed silently as he caught sight of the purple robed old man with the long white beard and the half-moon spectacles. He breathed in, trying not to think of the night he had watched Snape killed the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot as he watched Dumbledore exchange words with the Potions Master. _I could probably kill that greasy git right now, _thought Harry. _But I'd better not. After all, I can't assume every reality's gonna turn out the same as mine. I mean, I either don't exist in this reality or I'm not in Gryffindor, so what's to say that this Snape won't turn out to be a traitor. Speaking of which, I'd better try and find out what I can while the going's good._ He took one last look at the teacher's table, wondering where Hagrid was as he noticed the half-Giant's absence, as well as noting the other empty seat, and made his way towards the Gryffindor table, where 'Michael', Ron and Hermione were busy eating breakfast.

"Well, Mum, Dad and Ginny are going out to Romania to visit Charlie for Christmas, so I'll probably have to stay here over Christmas with the twins and… Percy," said Ron, shuddering slightly as he mentioned Percy's name.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ron," exclaimed Hermione. "Percy may be a bit bossy, but he's not that bad."

"He is when he's your brother," replied Ron. "So what about you, mate? You going home for Christmas?"

Michael nodded. "I've already had a letter asking me that. Everyone wants to know everything I've been doing at Hogwarts, especially Annie." He sighed. "As if having to write all those letters home wasn't bad enough."

"What about Harry?" asked Hermione. "Is he going home with you or is he staying here?"

_So I do exist here,_ thought Harry when he heard this. He quickly scanned the rest of the table, then the other house tables, but failed to spot anyone looking vaguely like him. _Guess he hasn't come down for breakfast yet, _he reasoned.

"Dunno," said Michael. "Mum hopes so, but we've kinda been giving each other a wide berth since he visited me in the Hospital Wing after that Troll incident a month ago, so I wouldn't have a clue."

"He visited you?" exclaimed Hermione." "Why didn't you tell us?"

"The conversation we had didn't really go well," Michael sighed. "I was in pain and feeling miserable, plus we've never really got along well, as you've probably already figured out. We ended up arguing about something. I've still no idea what about though. I said something about him coming to gloat, what with him becoming Slytherin's seeker and me being in the Hospital Wing and we argued for a while about Merlin knows before he said something about me being an attention-seeker who people only like because of something that didn't even happen to me, or something like that. Before long, Madam Pomfrey came through with a face like thunder and sent Harry away."

Several thoughts were going through Harry's mind as he heard this, _I'm in Slytherin?!? _being the main one.

"Famous for something that didn't even happen to you?" repeated Hermione incredulously. "You mean he thinks…?"

"Maybe," shrugged Michael. "I mean, he probably has just as much right to be called the 'Boy-Who-Lived' as I do. No one even knows who Vol… sorry… You-Know-Who…" he corrected himself as he saw Ron flinch. "… actually tried to kill first that night. For all we know, Harry might be the one who deserves the fame and glory. But Dumbledore reckons it's me, so unless someone proves otherwise, I am the 'Boy-Who-Lived', whether I like it or not. Besides, that wasn't the first time he's said something like that…"

Harry's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions at this point as he watched Ron begin to say something, but stop in mid-sentence. "Oh Merlin," he heard Ron mutter.

"What?" said Michael, though he quickly realised what his friend was talking about.

"Good grief!" exclaimed Hermione. "Can't those guys go one day without starting a fight with Malfoy's lot?"

Noticing that the three of them were now looking in the direction of the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry turned and saw what they were seeing – Draco Malfoy and a couple of Slytherins having what looked like a confrontation with four other Slytherin boys. He immediately recognised one of the four boys and started to make his way towards them as both parties drew their wands.

XxXxXxXxX

"Well?" Malfoy, whose party had drawn their wands first, sneered at the four, ignoring the gasps and murmurs that had erupted around them. "What're you Mudblood lovers going to do? Hex us in front of the whole school?"

The grips on Harry, Blaise and Spencer's wands tightened as Roger, who hadn't drawn his wand, watched them wide-eyed. However, before any Hexes could be thrown, the confrontation was broken up by several teachers, including Hagrid, who had just entered the Great Hall just behind Harry and co.

"All righ'!" he said, placing one of his huge arms in front of Harry's group. "Tha's enough!"

"Absolutely!" agreed McGonagall. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves, starting fights like this, in the Great Hall of all places!" she scolded. "Fifty points from Slytherin for…"

"Ahem!" interrupted Snape from just behind her. "I believe I am the Head of Slytherin House and, as such, am responsible for discipline on behalf of the students of Slytherin."

McGonagall glowered at Snape. "Very well," she relented.

"Five points from Slytherin for all those who drew their wands," proclaimed Snape – conveniently, the total deduction of points as a result of this was less than McGonagall's proposed point deduction. "Now, either sit down and eat your breakfast or leave," he instructed. "And if I see or hear of either party starting another fight with the other, I will see to it you all serve detentions every weekend for the rest of the year!"

Harry, Blaise and Spencer all glared at Snape, then at Malfoy's posse, before turning and leaving the Great Hall, closely followed by Roger and, unknown to them, the Disillusioned Harry.

"I say we just Hex 'em next time," growled Spencer as they walked down the corridor.

"Better not," mumbled Blaise shaking his head.

"You what?" said Harry incredulously. "You're not worried about Snape's threat, are you?"

"No," elaborated Blaise. "It's just that I was this close to using the Cruciatus Curse on Cuthbert back there."

"What? No!" exclaimed Roger, wide-eyed. "Guys, this is starting to go too far..."

"Roger, they need standing up to!" shouted Blaise. "It's their kind of racist drivel that almost makes me ashamed to be a pure-blood."

"I know, I know," stammered Roger. "But surely there's a better way – a way that isn't likely to eventually get us expelled."

"Maybe," relented Spencer. "But next time they start with the 'Mudblood' bollocks, they suffer."

"Agreed," nodded Blaise.

"Dementor," Harry said out loud as they approached the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. The portrait nodded and opened up when it heard the password. The four boys stepped up through the portrait hole into the common room. They continued talking as they headed across the common room and up the staircase to their dorm, closely followed by a still unseen Harry.

_Oh well, at least my other self hasn't become a stereotypical Slytherin,_ he thought with some relief. _And I never knew Blaise Zabini was so 'anti anti-mudblood'. He always seemed to be a part of Malfoy's little gang of Muggle-haters whenever I saw him. Then again, I didn't really know him, so for all I know, he was just playing along whenever he was with the other Slytherins. _He paused slightly, wondering how many other Slytherins he had misjudged while at Hogwarts. After all, he had since realised that the not all Slytherins were 'evil', as common belief would have it. _I wonder who the other two are_, he thought as he unpaused and continued following the four boys up the stairs._ I think I recognise 'Roger' from Potions classes and the other one looks a bit like that guy who became Slytherin's best Chaser in third year, Westwood._ He followed them to the top of the staircase and into their dorm. He was amazed at how similar this dorm was to his own one back in Gryffindor Tower. It even had a window, though the room was only slightly higher than ground level. _Nice view,_ Harry noted as he glanced through the window at the lake in the near distance.

"Why're you guys taking this so seriously?" Harry heard 'Roger' ask. "I'm the one they constantly throw insults at. Besides, I'm not worth all this fuss..."

"You're our friend!" interrupted Spencer. "Isn't that reason enough for all this?"

"Look, whether you like it or not, none of us're putting up with their kind of thinking," said Blaise. "I've had to put up with that sort of thinking all my life, even at home from my family. Plus, Hal and Spence's parents nearly died fighting against it," he added, nodding towards his friends. _Hal? _thought Harry, looking at his other self. _Guess I'd better not try using that alias with this lot. Good nickname, though._

He watched his other self sigh and pick up a piece of parchment from beside his bed. "Alright Rodge," he said. "If you really want us to let them walk all over you and spurn your very existence, then fine. Meanwhile, I have a History of Magic essay to make a start to."

He looked at Spencer and Blaise, hoping they would realise what he was trying to do. They both quickly recognised their friend's intention and the three of them left, leaving Roger alone, or so they thought.

Roger sighed and sat heavily on his bed. "Bloody hell," he mumbled.

"Your friends are right, you know," said an unseen voice suddenly. "You should listen to them."

Roger immediately sprang up and drew his wand. "Who's there?" he exclaimed, his voice full of fear.

"Huh?" said the voice. "Oh, right. Sorry. Forgot to cancel the Disillusionment Charm. Hold on."

"What? What are…?" Roger stammered, stopping as a long-haired figure in a leather jacket suddenly faded into view. He pointed his wand at the stranger. "Who… who are you?"

"It's complicated," said the stranger in the leather jacket as he put his wand in his jacket pocket and turned to face the fair-haired boy.

Roger stared at the stranger incredulously. "Hal?" he gasped, having seen Harry's scar. "Is that you?"

"Sort of," shrugged the stranger that looked like an older Harry Potter. "I never had a nickname when I was at Hogwarts. I have used the name 'Hal' as an alias a few times though, but that's a long story." He looked at the boy named Roger, who was still staring at him, fear and confusion etched on his face. "My name's Harry Potter," he said plainly. "And I'm from another reality." _If that is Roger Appleby, then hopefully that's all I'll have to say._

"You… what… another reality?" Roger stuttered. "You mean…?"

"I'm another version of your friend, Harry Potter, who just happened to live a slightly, or in this case very, different life," elaborated Harry.

Roger looked at the 'alternate' version of his friend uncertainly. _He has the scar, but he could still be some kind of impostor. _"If you're Harry, then you'll know what position you play on the Quidditch team."

"I was Seeker for the Gryffindor team," said Harry. "Youngest Quidditch player at Hogwarts in over a century," he added.

"And what type of broom do you ride?" Roger asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

"Until third year, a Nimbus 2000," answered Harry.

"And what do the four of us call ourselves?" continued Roger.

"You mean you, Blaise Zabini, Spencer Westwood and 'Hal'?" said Harry. "No idea. I wasn't in Slytherin. But if I were to come up with a name for a Marauders-esque group, then I'd probably come up with something that sounded a lot more innocent than 'Marauders'. Something like 'The Guys' or 'The Posse' or 'The Clique', something like that."

"Actually," said Roger as he lowered his wand. "It was me who came up with 'The Guys'. Someone said something like 'you guys are pathetic', so I suggested it and it kinda stuck." He looked at the Harry curiously. "You really are another Harry Potter aren't you?"

Harry nodded.

"But if you're from 'another reality', then what are you doing here? How'd you get here?" asked Roger.

"Doesn't matter," said Harry, changing the subject. "What does matter is that your friends are right about Malfoy and his cronies."

Roger looked away slightly. "Look, I can handle the PFBs, okay? I don't need the others getting themselves into trouble over me."

"PFBs?" Harry found himself asking, though he reckoned it would probably be something along the lines of…

"Pureblood Fanatic Bastards," explained Roger. "Spence started calling Cuthbert, Malfoy and the others that and the initials kinda stuck, a bit like 'The Guys'."

"Oh," said Harry. "Hold on, who the hell is Cuthbert?"

"Cuthbert Garrett," said Roger, looking at Cuthbert's bed. "Our roommate."

"Cuthbert Garrett," mumbled Harry. He did know of Cuthbert Garrett – Ron had once received a Detention after Hexing him for calling Hermione a 'mudblood whore'. Come to think of it, Harry had thrown a few Hexes in his direction too, before being forced to kill him several years later.

"Yeah," sighed Roger. "Anyway, it doesn't matter…"

"It does matter," interrupted Harry. "Your friends are right when they say you shouldn't put up with it. Besides, no one has any respect for someone who lets themselves be bullied, especially when their friends are so willing to defend them."

"But…" stammered Roger. "I'm not worth all this fuss! I mean, I'm only one person…"

"Who's worth more than anyone like Malfoy or Garrett," interrupted Harry. He sighed before trying a different tactic. "Do you want to know what my reality's version of Roger Appleby was like?" he asked.

"I thought you didn't know him," said Roger, looking at Harry suspiciously.

"I didn't," relied Harry. "I talked to him once or twice though. That was all I needed to figure out what his life was like. It was quite sad really. He always seemed to be alone, never laughed along with the other Slytherins whenever Snape taunted the Gryffindors in Potions, never seemed to be a true member of Slytherin and probably never had the friends you've been lucky enough to have."

Roger looked at Harry, speechless, as he realised that all that would probably be true for him if it weren't for Hal, Blaze and Spence.

Harry sighed. "Look, it's your choice kid, but if I were you, I'd at least let your friends make the lives of Malfoy and his goons as miserable as possible. In fact, I'd join in, but I guess it's up to you…"

Roger stared at this 'other' version of Harry Potter, somehow listening to his words in a way he couldn't listen to the words of his friends. They had essentially been telling him the same thing for ages, but somehow, the words of this stranger in the leather jacket were having an effect on Roger Matthew Appleby. The knowledge that there was another Roger Appleby, whose life had been made miserable by the PFBs seemed to infuriate him in a way his own treatment hadn't. After all, he had friends who were trying to stand up for him, which always seemed to make it tolerable. _But they shouldn't have to stick up for me,_ Roger thought. _I should be the one sticking up for myself, but instead, my best friends are risking expulsion, all because I'm too spineless to stand up for myself!_

Harry watched as Roger Appleby wrestled with his own thoughts. _C'mon, kid, _thought Harry. _You know your friends are right. Just accept it, stand up for yourself and help them give Malfoy's mob hell!_

They both stood in the dormitory, one's mind in turmoil, the other one waiting patiently, neither one of them speaking. Eventually, Roger broke the silence.

"Look, um…" Roger began. "I… uh. I… well…"

"If you're about to tell me that I'm right and that you're sorry for letting Malfoy's lot give you a hard time, then don't," interrupted Harry. "I'm not the one you should be saying it to."

Roger sighed. "I guess you're right." He looked past Harry at the door. "Y'know what? I think I'll tell 'em now," he said as he started walking towards the door.

However, as he was go through the door, someone else beat him to it…

"Hey, Rodge, you okay?" asked Spencer as the three boys entered the dorm. "We were starting to get kinda worried…"

He stopped as he, Blaise and this reality's Harry spotted the strange figure in the leather jacket and the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. The three stood in the doorway, staring at both the friend and the stranger.

"Rodge?" said Blaise quietly, hoping that either his friend or the stranger would give an explanation.

Roger sighed and looked at the Harry in the leather jacket.

"Harry," said Roger, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Meet the Guys…"

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

**Admit it.** You thought Harry would be done with this reality by the end of this chapter, especially after I said in previous notes that there would be three chapters in this reality, two of them involving the Lone Traveller. Well, all I can say about that is that Harry isn't quite done with this reality just yet.

**Concerning Canon Blaise in HBP.** After I created the 'Blaze' character in chapter 6, I did become aware of Blaise's actions and words aboard the Hogwarts Express in 'Half-Blood Prince'. I could just say 'this is an alternate reality', but that wouldn't be too easy an explanation. The way I see it, Canon Blaise and 'Blaze' are different in that, because of Harry/'Hal', 'Blaze' met and became friends with a Muggle-born (Roger Appleby), whereas Canon Blaise didn't. Canon Blaise and Blaze probably had the same views (rejecting those of his parents), in first year but Canon Blaise was either eventually forced to conform to the pureblood fanatic way of thinking or simply pretends to agree with it when around the likes of Malfoy.

**Korrd. **Concerning Harry/Ginny in this reality, I doubt I'll have that relationship in the spin-off (Yes, I will do it at some point, probably quite soon.). Right now, I'm thinking of having Hal meeting someone during second year, though who exactly that girl is, I'll leave for you to figure out.

**Concerning the end of the story.** I'm probably going to write a first draft of the Epilogue fairly soon, and I've pretty much decided The Lone Traveller's fate will be already. Want to know what that fate is?

Tough. You'll just have to read the rest of the story.


	10. CHAPTER 9 Legend of the Lone Traveller

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if anyone wants to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read S'TarKan's 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER NINE – The Legend of the Lone Traveller.**

Harry, along with Blaise and Spencer, stared incredulously at Roger and the stranger in the leather jacket. _Did he just call HIM Harry?_ He regarded the stranger with sheer disbelief. _He has the same scar! _his thoughts exclaimed as he caught sight of the familiar lightning shaped scar. _Is that me? No, what am I saying? That's possible…_ Suddenly, he thought of something. _Oh Merlin, don't tell me Michael did it again._ He groaned out loud and stepped forward. "Michael was mucking about with a Time Turner again, wasn't he?" The other 'Harry' responded with a puzzled expression on his face. _Something tells me Michael wasn't the cause of this_, concluded Harry.

The Harry in the leather jacket looked at the younger version of himself. _Mucking around with a Time Turner? _he thought incredulously. _Bloody hell, no wonder he and his brother don't get along._ He shook his head at the younger Harry's question. "Good guess, kid, but the answer's no."

Blaise and Spencer gaped at the Harry in the leather jacket when he spoke. _He sounds just like Hal!_ they both thought simultaneously. By now, between the stranger's voice and appearance, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that, somehow, someway, this stranger in the leather jacket was indeed Harry Potter.

After a few seconds, someone suggested that they sit down. They all did so, the Harry in the leather jacket sitting himself on the remaining bed, apparently not bothered that it belonged to Cuthbert Garrett. The Guys then listened as Harry told them of how he had come to be in their reality and a little about some of the realities he had visited previously, as well as his own. However, it was when Harry mentioned something about the blue aura that took him from reality to reality that he was interrupted by Blaise.

"Blue light?" he exclaimed, as he sprung to his feet and started rummaging through his trunk.

"What's up?" asked Roger as he watched the olive-skinned boy pull out a book from the bottom of his trunk.

"I've heard this before…" muttered Blaise, as he opened the book and started looking for something.

Hearing this, Spencer looked at the Harry in the leather jacket, then at Blaise. "You don't think…?" he asked nervously.

Blaise stopped at a page, read a few words, then looked at the alternate Harry, who sported a confused look on his face. "You…" he stammered. "You're… you're the Lone Traveller… aren't you?" He watched the older version of his friend blink slightly. _He recognises the name!_ he thought as he looked back at the book.

Harry did indeed recognise the name – he had been called that by a startled villager somewhere in Eastern Europe who had witnessed his entrance to that reality. At the time, he had been slightly confused by this, but by the time his vision returned and the numbness left him, the villager had fled the scene. He had soon forgotten about that particular incident when he had spotted Professor Quirinus Quirrell and set about preventing his possession by Voldemort. But now, here he was, in a completely different reality, being addressed as 'The Lone Traveller' once again by a wide-eyed Slytherin – _No way is this a coincidence,_ concluded Harry as Blaise Zabini looked again at the book he was holding.

"What're you talking about, Blaze?" asked Roger, confused by the looks both Blaise and Spencer were giving the Harry sitting on Cuthbert's bed.

Blaise took a few steps forward and handed Roger the book, pointing at the relevant page. As he did this, Harry caught a glimpse of the book's title – 'Legends & Myths of the Wizarding World' by Gertrude Yolanda. _Legends & Myths? _thought Harry. _You've gotta be kidding me…_

Roger looked at the book and read some of it out loud. "The Lone Traveller…" he muttered. "Young man who tried to change the past and save those he loved… plan failed and became the Lone Traveller, wandering through time and reality, making a difference wherever he went… very powerful… defeated a powerful Dark Lord… swept along the path he walked by a spectacular aura of…" he paused, squinting slightly at the last two words finishing the sentence, "… blue light." He lowered the book slightly and stared at Harry.

The Harry Potter native to their reality also stared at the Harry in the leather jacket. _Or is it 'The Lone Traveller'?_ he wondered, slightly amused at the fact that there was a Harry Potter who was a character in a well-known myth, if Blaze and Spence's reactions were any indication.

The Lone Traveller sat there, not sure what to think. Roger Appleby had just described his situation perfectly, right down to the blue aura, yet he was reading it from a book – a book on myths and legends, no less. "Bloody hell," he mumbled. _How the hell am I a myth? I haven't been doing this for that long… _He stopped as an unwelcome conclusion occurred to him. He sighed. _Looks like I'll be doing this for a while…_

Suddenly, the five of them heard a noise near the doorway - someone was coming up the stairs. The Harry from this reality, who thus far had kept quiet, stood up. "Shit!" he muttered. "Someone's coming!"

"Cuthbert," mumbled Spencer, glancing at the bed the other Harry was still sitting on.

The Guys all glanced at the door, trying not to panic. "Quick, hide!" said Blaise, turning to the other Harry, only to find that he was already gone.

Harry watched, having non-verbally Disillusioned himself, as a familiar cloak-wearing figure came through the door, closely followed by a surly looking boy, who Harry recognised as being Cuthbert Garrett.

"Well, well, well," sneered Severus Snape, glaring at the four boys. "Cuthbert here tells me the four of you have a visitor." He glanced around the room and frowned when he saw no-one, other than the four boys, who had every right to be in their own dorm. "Where is he?" he growled.

"Where's who?" asked Spencer in a convincingly innocent voice.

Snape glowered at Spencer, then at Cuthbert, whom Snape knew wasn't lying about his claims, thanks to Legilimency. He drew his wand and addressed the empty room. "If there is anyone here who shouldn't be here, then show yourself!" he barked. When he received no response, he pointed his wand towards the centre of the room and shouted "Finite Incantatum!"

A fairly bright flash filled the room. The Guys watched, trying to hide their concern. The four of them then had to try and hide their relief when nothing happened.

Snape lowered his wand and blinked slightly. The intruder young Cuthbert had told him about had obviously left, _But where?_ The Potions Master looked around the room, making eye contact with James Potter's less famous son. However, when Snape tried using Legilimency to extract the information he desired from the boys mind, something seemed to block him. He frowned slightly when, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get past whatever it was that was blocking his Legilimency. He then looked at the young Zabini boy and tried again. However, he found that he couldn't access this boy's mind either. He tried to hide his frustration as he tried again on Spencer Westwood, only to come up against the same barrier as before. He tried one last time on the Muggle-born, Roger Appleby. He tried not to curse out loud when he once again found the boy's mind blocked from him. _Surely they cannot all be Occlumens's!_ thought Snape.

Snape glowered at the four boys before exiting the dormitory without a word. Cuthbert stood there and glared at his roommates.

"Who were you talking to?" he demanded to know. "I heard you talking to someone, and I want to know who!"

The Guys looked at each other, trying not to grin.

"Did you hear that guys?" said 'Blaze', addressing his comrades.

"Indeed we did, Blaze," replied 'Spence'. "I believe he wants to know something. Do you know what he's talking about, Hal?"

"Indeed I do not," said 'Hal'. "However, I do not feel that any of us should be surprised at a PFB like Cuthbert talking crap, wouldn't you agree, Rodge?"

"Indeed I would, Hal," said 'Rodge', as Cuthbert glowered at him. "After all, we have seen time and time again that Cuthbert here is incapable of any independent or indeed any kind of intelligent thought."

Cuthbert looked at Roger with a mixture of fury and surprise. "What did you just say?" he said in a voice dripping with anger.

The four Guys grinned.

"Oh dear," grinned 'Spence'. "It appears that Cuthbert here has a hearing problem."

"Or perhaps Cuthbert Cringeworthy is merely proving Rodge's statement as being true," interjected 'Hal'.

"I do believe you are correct Hal," said 'Blaze'. He turned to address Cuthbert. "Perhaps you should go outside and get some air," he suggested.

"Capital idea, Blaze," agreed 'Spence'. "Perhaps it'll allow him to air out the cobwebs in the vacant space that would normally accommodate a brain."

"Or cool down any brain cells present," added 'Rodge'. "Which will no doubt be starting to overheat due to the strain of interpreting the words we are saying." _Bloody hell,_ thought Roger. _No wonder the Guys love doing this. This is actually kinda fun._

The Guys watched Cuthbert as he struggled to maintain his composure, ready to defend themselves should Cuthbert lose his temper. However, Cuthbert didn't give them an excuse, instead whirling around and storming out of the dormitory.

"He's gone now," Blaise whispered in the direction of the space where the other Harry had been standing. Nothing happened.

"Harry?" said Roger cautiously. "Where are you? Are you still here?"

Suddenly, from halfway down the staircase, they heard a strangled cry, a crash and several angry sounding voices yelling "Watch it, Garrett!"

The Guys stood there confused. "What the…?" Spencer began. However, he stopped as the four boys watched as the older Harry faded into view as he came through the door.

"Oh my god…" exclaimed Roger.

"You didn't…" stammered Blaise.

"Did you just…?" said Spencer.

The older Harry looked at them with a sarcastically outraged look on his face. "Now, now," he grinned. "You wouldn't be blaming me for Cuthbert tripping and falling into a group of Slytherin prefects, now would you?"

Harry watched as the younger him returned the grin, as did the Guys. "Certainly not," said 'Hal'.

Roger looked at the Harry in the leather jacket suspiciously. "How did you do that?" he asked. "Y'know, when Snape…"

"I've been practicing a few new tricks since my 'journey' began," smirked Harry. After the fiasco of the wedding in the first reality, Harry had used every spare moment to research anything that might be useful – one of the first things on his list being methods of resisting 'Finite Incantatum'. The boys gave him an impressed look. However, there was something else Roger wanted to ask…

"And when he looked at us and frowned each time," said Roger. "That wasn't anything to do with you, was it?"

Harry nodded. "Snape was trying to use Legilimency on you four," he explained. "I managed to block him."

"Snape's a Legilimens?" exclaimed Blaise and Spencer simultaneously.

Harry nodded again while Roger looked at him, confused.

"What's a Legilimens?" he asked.

This reality's Harry answered his question with a suitable Muggle phrase. "It means he's a mind-reader."

"Snape can read minds!" exclaimed Roger. "Isn't there anything we can do to stop him?"

They all looked at the Harry in the leather jacket and saw him smirk slightly. "Occlumency," was all he said in response.

"You were able to block of all our minds from him with Occlumency?" said Blaise.

"Yep," nodded Harry. "But I won't be around to block him next time, so I suggest the four of you lean Occlumency as soon as possible – especially you," he added, pointing at his other self.

_Merlin, he even points at things the same way our Harry does,_ thought Blaise, Roger and Spencer simultaneously, noting Harry's use of both his index and middle fingers.

Their version of Harry noticed this too as he told the Harry in the leather jacket that he had already tried to find a book on Occlumency in the Library, but was prevented from doing so due to the book being in the Restricted Section.

"No problem," responded Harry. "I'll be back in a little while."

Before anyone could say anything, Harry had Disillusioned himself and left the dormitory.

XxXxXxXxXxX

As Harry scanned the bookshelf, trying to avoid the books he knew were jinxed, every thought kept returning to the Legend of the Lone Traveller.

_How the hell's this possible?_ he found himself asking for the fifteenth time since entering the Library._ I mean, if I am now this 'legendary figure', which is totally ridiculous, that would mean I'd have to pay more than one visit to each reality, otherwise how is it possible that I'm in a book in this, or any other reality already? _After a few minutes, Harry decided to not think about it too much and just accept that, assuming it was him, he was now this legendary figure. _The Lone Traveller, eh?_ he thought, smirking slightly at the thought of yet another nickname being added to his already impressive collection. _The Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, Maarek Ilumian – The Fury of the Light, The Man-Who-Triumphed and The Lone Traveller. Not bad for a 'worthless freak' whose bedroom was a cupboard for ten years._

"Here we go…" mumbled Harry as he finally found a copy of 'Occlumency: A Beginner's Guide' on one of the shelves. He picked it up carefully so as not to touch any of the others and placed the book in one of his jacket pockets. Having got what he came for, he went to leave the library, only to overhear a couple of words that immediately caught his attention.

"… but what in Merlin's name could that thing be guarding?"

Harry turned and saw, surrounded by a pile of books, Ron, Hermione and Michael Potter, discussing something.

"Well, whatever it is, Snape wants it," said Michael, taking care not to be overheard by Madam Pince.

"Michael, we don't know it's Snape…" began Hermione.

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" interrupted Ron. "You saw that gash on Snape's leg on Halloween, plus we saw him trying to jinx Harry's broom…"

_Oh bloody hell,_ thought Harry as he realised who had been missing from the teacher's table. _Quirrell! Voldemort'll be trying to get his hands on the Philosophers Stone before long._

He watched Ron sigh. "We're wasting our time. We're not going to find out anything about this 'Nicholas Flamel' anywhere."

"Ron," protested Hermione. "We can't just give up…"

_Oh boy,_ thought Harry as he turned and left the Library before the argument between the two young Gryffindors could get underway. _Some things never change…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

After checking that the coast was clear, Harry cancelled out his Silencing and Disillusionment Charms before approaching the Slytherin portrait, which looked at him suspiciously when it saw Harry come around the corner.

"You!" said the portrait confrontationally. "I don't recognise you. Who are you?"

_And people wonder why I keep my hair this long,_ Harry thought as several locks of hair obscured his scar from view.

"My name is Alec," said Harry, calling on yet another of his many aliases. "Alec Ward. I'm here to visit my cousin."

The portrait eyed him suspiciously. "Is that so?" said the well-dressed, no doubt pure-blooded, old gentleman. "And who would your 'cousin' be?"

Harry smirked at the old man in the picture. "His name's Dalton Point," he said, choosing a pure-blood he knew had been in Slytherin at this point. "He'll be in sixth year. He's a Prefect and has just joined the Quidditch team, as a Chaser I believe."

"You're related to the Point family?" asked the portrait.

"Indeed I am," replied Harry. "Dalton's mother is my aunt, on my mother's side."

"Is that so?" said the portrait. "Then may I ask why you are dressed in Muggle attire?"

"I'm spending a lot of time among Muggles at the moment," smirked Harry. The portrait looked at him suspiciously when he said this. "Though what I have planned for them, I must keep to myself at this point," he added.

The addition had the desired effect as the elderly gentleman began to chuckle. "Very well, young Ward, I believe you," he said. "However, I will still need the password."

"Of course," nodded Harry. "I was told it's 'Dementor'. Is that correct?"

"It is, young sir," replied the portrait as it opened. "Give my regards to young Dalton when you see him," the portrait added as Harry entered the common room.

Harry quickly Disillusioned himself upon entering the common room and made his way up the stairs towards The Guys' dorm. He arrived to see that his other self wasn't there.

"Hey, guys. Where's Harry?" he asked, making the three boys jump.

"Um… he, uh, just left," said Blaise to the unseen voice of Harry. "He said he'd be beside the lake if anyone wanted him."

"Alright, thanks," replied Harry as, still Disillusioned, he left the dorm and went down the stairs, stopping to let a couple of third years past about halfway down. He crossed the common room, ignoring the group of fourth years gathered around the fireplace, and opened the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" exclaimed the portrait as he looked to see who had just left and saw no one. Harry ignored the portrait and carried on.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Hey there, kid," greeted Harry as he approached the tree under which his other self was sitting.

The younger Harry looked up and saw the Harry in the leather jacket fade into view. "Oh, um, hi… Harry," he said, unsure how to address his other self. "God, this is weird."

"How do you think I feel?" smirked Harry. "I have to do this nearly every reality I visit."

"Oh," was all that the younger Harry said in response.

"Tell you what…" said Harry as he sat down beside his other self. "I'll call you Hal and you call me either Harry or Alec. How does that sound?"

"Alec?" said 'Hal'.

"That portrait of Sir what's-his-name wanted to know who I was, so I used the 'Alec Ward' alias and said I was here to visit my 'cousin', Dalton Point," explained Harry.

"Oh. Okay… Alec," mumbled Hal, not sure what to say next. "Umm… nice jacket."

"Thanks," replied Harry. "Y'know, you'd probably suit one of these."

"You think so?" asked 'Hal'.

"I've always had this thing for jackets, leather, fleece, whatever," said Harry. "It was only after I left Hogwarts and the Dursleys that I was able to really started wearing them though."

"And the hair?" continued Hal.

"Mainly the result of not having much time to have it cut, though it is pretty useful for hiding this," smirked Harry, tapping his scar with two fingers. "What's your excuse?" he added, nodding at his other self's hair, which was slightly longer than his had been at that age.

"Same reasons, I guess," responded Hal, running his hand through his hair.

There was a slight pause until Harry remembered the books in his pockets. "Oh, by the way," he said as he took all but one of the books out of his pocket. "I swiped these from the Restricted Section, but I suggest you get your own copies the first chance you get. Madam Pince doesn't check the Restriced Section often, but she'll realise these are missing eventually."

Hal took the books from Harry and looked at them. "Um... sorry to sound dense, but where in Merlin's name am I going to get my own copies of these?" He held up a copy of 'Advanced Level Spells & Incantations'. "Have you any idea what kind of questions will be asked if I try to buy this in Fourish & Blotts, even if they do sell anything on wandless magic or Occlumency?"

"I didn't get my stuff on wandless magic and Occlumency in Diagon Alley," said Harry.

"So where…?" began Hal.

"Knockturn Alley," interrupted Harry.

"Knockturn Alley?" exclaimed Hal. "And just how am I going to get anything in Knockturn Alley? I mean, Mum went ballistic last time I tried to go down there, and next time, she and Dad'll probably not let me out of their sights just to make sure I don't try again."

"Then go shopping on your own," replied Harry.

"On my own?" said Hal. "But, how… what would I say if someone asked where I was going?"

"Well, it's December, isn't it?" said Harry. "Just say you're going Christmas shopping."

Hal looked at the books on his lap. "This is quite a collection you've assembled. Occlumency, Legilimency…"

"Both very useful," said Harry.

"…wandless magic, animagi, apparition, metamorphmagi…" continued Hal, looking up at Harry when he mentioned the last book.

"Apparently, I had an great uncle on my Dad's side who was a Metamorphmagus," said Harry. "Tonks did a test on me at some point and it revealed that I could probably do it once I learned the basics," He took the one book he'd kept for himself out of his pocket. "That's why I'm borrowing this. Apparently, once you've learned the basics, the rest just comes naturally, though all I really need is a full proof way of hiding this accursed scar."

"Dad's uncle Gerald?" said Hal. "You mean, we could both have taken after him?"

"Maybe," replied Harry. "Hold on, you mean you weren't tested when you were a kid? I thought all wizards with Metamorph relatives got tested when they were young."

"Michael got tested when we were two," answered Hal bitterly. "Annie got tested when she was three. I guess my parents just haven't got around to trying me yet."

"Oh," said Harry. "I'm guessing you don't get along with the rest of your family, right?"

Hal nodded. "Sometimes I wonder if they realise they have two sons, not just 'Mr Celebrity', Michael Potter."

"They do, Hal. Trust me," said Harry. "In fact, I know for a fact that Michael feels bad about that argument you two had in the Hospital Wing."

Hal looked at him, wide-eyed. "What? How did you find out about that?"

"I overheard Michael and my… his friends at breakfast while I was trying to find out if you existed in this reality or not," explained Harry. "He told them, for the first time I might add, about the row you two had. I also heard him admit that you have just as much chance of being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' as he does."

"Michael said that?" asked Hal incredulously.

"He did," nodded Harry. "And apparently, your mother's hoping you'll come back for Christmas this year."

"Really?" said Hal equally incredulously. "You sure?"

Harry nodded again. "Even if they don't make it obvious, your family does care about you. Just don't cut yourself off from them and they always will."

There was a long silence. Harry could tell that his other self wasn't sure what to make of what had just been said, so Harry changed the subject.

"By the way," he said. "What did the hat say to you during the Sorting?"

"What?"

"The Sorting Hat," elaborated Harry. "I'm sure it put you in Slytherin for a reason."

Hal looked away slightly. "I… it said I'd do well in all the houses and reckoned I'd probably do best in Slytherin. It then asked me if I had any preferences…"

"And you agreed with the hat and chose Slytherin?" said Harry, though he knew there was more to it than that.

"I said I didn't mind as long as it didn't put me in with my brother," finished Hal.

"Whereas I said 'anywhere but Slytherin' because I'd been told that Slytherin was evil and I'd just been introduced to Malfoy and the whole 'pure-blood superiority' ideology," said Harry. "And I suppose Snape still hates you, regardless of what house you're in."

"Yeah," nodded Hal. "Spence is even convinced Snape tried to jinx my broom in that first Quidditch match, but I don't think it was him."

_Jinxed broom? _thought Harry as he suddenly remembered what he'd overheard in the Library. "So, uh, who do you think did it?"

"Dunno," said Hal, eying Harry suspiciously. "I don't suppose you know, do you?"

"Well, yeah, I do," said Harry carefully. "Look, you haven't noticed anything weird about Quirinus Quirrell, have you?"

"You mean, have I noticed the stutter that lasts whole sentences, the way he looks at me and the fact that my scar seems to hurt when I'm around him?" asked Hal sarcastically.

Harry sighed and nodded.

"But why would he try to kill me?" asked Hal. "I haven't done anything to him."

"You have to the person who's commandeering him though," replied Harry.

"Commandeering him? You mean with the Imperius curse?" exclaimed Hal.

"No. Not with the Imperius curse. I'll give you a clue though," said Harry, tapping his scar with both index and middle fingers. "Before I learned Occlumency, this thing would hurt if Voldemort was feeling a strong emotion like anger or happiness. It also hurt whenever he was nearby."

"Voldemort? Nearby?" said Hal. "You mean Voldemort's here…? But how? Why?" He paused slightly. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the third floor being out of bounds, or that Troll that was set loose on Halloween, would it?"

Harry nodded. "There was a break-in at Gringotts over the summer," he said. "The item that was nearly stolen was brought here for safekeeping."

"Item?"

"Ask Michael. He and his friends are already on the trail to finding out about it," said Harry. "Or you could just look up Nicholas Flamel the Alchemist yourself."

"Nicholas Flamel?" said Hal, his mind already racing. _Where have I heard that name before? _he wondered. "And what about the Troll? There's a rumour going around that it was supposed to be guarding something before it got loose."

Harry shook his head. "The Troll was just a distraction by Quirrell as he tried to get the Stone, but Snape headed him off before he got the chance," he explained. "It's actually a Cerberus that's guarding the trapdoor," he added.

"Stone?" mumbled Hal.

"That's another hint, by the way," smirked Harry.

There was another slight pause as Hal's mind processed what it had just learned.

"So, Alec, anything else I should know?" asked Hal.

"Plenty of things," replied Harry. "But there probably isn't enough time." He looked at the pile of schoolwork beside his other self. "Are you going to use this?" Harry asked as he picked up a piece of blank parchment.

"No," said Hal. "I've just finished the History of Magic essay I had to do."

Before Hal could ask what Harry was doing, Harry had pulled out his wand and tapped his own forehead with it, before tapping the blank piece of parchment, which made the parchment glow slightly for a moment. Harry then handed the piece of parchment back to his other self.

Hal looked at the parchment curiously, then at Harry. "What did you just do?"

"I put a few useful bits of information from my mind into that parchment," explained Harry. "If you need information or advice that you can't get from anywhere else, then consult this thing."

Hal looked incredulously at the blank piece of paper. "How?"

"It works the same way as the Marauder's Map." elaborated Harry. "You have to say the password, or should I say, pass-phrase."

"And what is the 'pass-phrase'?" asked Hal.

"Just put your hand on it and say 'I seek the advice of The Lone Traveller'," said Harry.

Hal grinned when he heard this. "Lone Traveller, eh?"

Harry returned the grin and shrugged. "Yeah, well, I thought I may as well use that name, seeing as it probably is me."

Hal nodded. "So I just say that and ask it anything I need to know?"

"Pretty much," said Harry. "But only if it's absolutely necessary. Don't overuse it or start to depend on it."

Hal looked at the blank piece of parchment for a few seconds before putting it in his pocket. "Um, look," said Hal awkwardly. "Based on the fact that you were the only candidate for being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and all that gaff, what would your advice be for a 'Boy-Who-Lived' who officially isn't?"

"You mean, you want to know whether it would be worth revealing the truth?" said Harry. "I can't really say. Besides, it's not really my place to tell you whether or not to reveal the truth to the world, though I will say that if you do, you'll probably find yourself the target of a Daily Prophet smear campaign like I was when Voldemort came back. It was over a year before the Ministry finally admitted the truth, but by then, I'd already been denounced as being a disturbed, deceitful, attention-seeking, show-off."

"So you think I should keep things under wraps?" concluded Hal.

"I think you should let others figure it out for themselves," said Harry. "Though I have a feeling that you were planning to do that anyway, am I right?"

Hal nodded and said nothing.

Harry got to his feet and looked at his other self. "Oh, and Harry," he said, using his other self's real name. "Trust your friends."

"Wh… what d'you mean?" stammered Hal.

"I'm guessing you didn't tell your friends of your attempts to learn Occlumency, judging by their reactions when you told me," concluded Harry. "It's not a good idea to keep too many things to yourself, especially from your friends."

Hal looked away slightly when Harry said this.

_Good,_ thought Harry. _Just remember what I've said and use that piece of parchment wisely and hopefully things'll get better for you._ He took a few steps backward.

"Hey, Hal," he said. His other self looked back up at him. "Take care of yourself, alright? And good luck."

He watched the other him nod slightly before turning away and taking a few steps before being engulfed by a spectacular aura of pulsing blue light. A few seconds later, he was gone, leaving young Harry James Potter sitting alone beside the lake.

-

**Author's Note.**

Well, that's this reality done and dusted as far as The Lone Traveller's concerned, though we will see the same events from Hal and the Guys' point of view…

Yes, you read correctly folks – 'The Story of The Guys' is now in the works, with Chapter 1 nearly complete and a hell of a load of ideas for after The Lone Traveller's visit. The first chapter, at least, should be up soon.

**Terris:** Trust me, some of the realities I have planned will have Harry make a difference without actually realising it or finding out what he's meant to do until after he's done it. Also, there will be a few Harry's worse off than The Lone Traveller.

**Korrd:** Thanks for informing me about 'Daphne Greengrass'. She'll probably end up in 'SoTG', though probably not as Harry's love interest.

Anyhow, I'll hopefully get Chapter Ten written soon, as well as the beginning of The Story of The Guys. Until then, enjoy…


	11. CHAPTER 10 Saviour of the Condemned

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER TEN – Saviour of the Condemned.**

When Harry's vision cleared, he couldn't help but notice something about the stone hall he found himself in.

It was dark.

As his eyes got used to the light, he suddenly realised that the hall was lined with what looked like prison cells. _Is this a prison?_ wondered Harry._ Well, it can't be a Muggle prison, judging by the stonework and… oh crap!_

He looked around him nervously as he realised where he must be, but by then, it was too late – the Dementors had found him.

"_Lily! Take Harry and run!"_

"_No, not Harry, please…"_

"_Just make sure you send Tom on ahead before you try to catch up, will ya?"_

"_Severus… please."_

"_Kill the spare."_

"_Harry!!!"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Harry… I… I… love…"_

"That's enough!" Harry found himself yelling as he felt his fury being unleashed. Unnaturally high pitched screeches echoed through the halls as the hooded figures that had just appeared suddenly fled. A few seconds later, they were all gone, as was the white flame-like aura around Harry.

Harry sighed. _Almost lost control there. Shit, I'd better get out of here before those soul-sucking bastards come back…_ However, before he could do anything else, he was distracted by a slow, sarcastic sounding applause coming from one of the poorly lit cells.

"Well," said a voice in the shadows. "I must say, I'm impressed."

Harry approached the cell carefully and saw a figure sitting on the bed, obscured by the darkness. _No!_ thought Harry as he recognised the voice. _It can't be…_

The voice continued. "I mean, you managed to drive them away without a wand, and you didn't even use the Patronus charm." The figure stood up and stepped forward toward the bars. "It was a nice trick though. The white flames looked good and the glowing eyes were a nice touch. But I think that entrance of yours was probably the best bit – very spectacular."

By now the figure was standing right in front of the bars, only a foot or so away from Harry. Even in the dim light of the stone hall, Harry instantly recognised the green-haired prisoner with the long, unkempt dark hair. "Bloody hell!" he muttered, stepping backward slightly.

Harry James Potter, Prisoner number AZ-142670, regarded the stranger in the leather jacket with mild curiosity. He smirked slightly as he spotted the familiar scar on the stranger's forehead. "Something tells me you're not here to visit someone, am I right?" He watched the stranger nod slightly. "And I'm also guessing you didn't expect to find me in a prison cell." Another nod. "Well, I don't recall having done anything like you've just done, and if, judging by your expression, you were never in a prison cell, then who are you if you're not me?"

_He's realised who I am already! Oh well, at least he seems to be taking my sudden appearance well, _thought the Harry in the leather jacket. _But what the hell did he do to get himself locked up in Azkaban? Oh well, if I answer his questions, maybe he'll answer mine…_

"It's, uh, kinda complicated," said Harry.

The other Harry in the prison cell shrugged. "Well, if it's a long story then that's no big problem. I mean, it's not as if I'm going anywhere soon."

_How the hell can he be so cheerful? _thought Harry incredulously. "Yeah, well I don't think the Dementors'll be gone long enough for me to explain," said Harry. "Besides, I'd rather go somewhere a little less depressing first."

"Go somewhere?" exclaimed the other Harry. "Um, in case that little light show of yours scrambled your brains, we're in Azkaban, the most secure prison ever built. The only person ever to escape was Sirius, and he was an Animagus, which I'm not. So unless you can do that fancy blue light thing and get me out of here, then you'll have to explain yourself right here."

_Guess he doesn't know how to Apparate through Anti-Apparition wards, _concluded Harry. "Well, I suppose I could get you out of here if I really wanted to," responded Harry. "But first I need to know why you're in here."

"Because I supposedly tortured Percy Weasley and some other Ministry employees to death when I was seventeen." said the other Harry angrily. "And I've spent the last two and a half years sitting here, waiting for one of those Dementors to come in here and pucker up."

"Supposedly?" queried Harry.

"Yeah, well it was my wand that was used and no-one in the Wizarding world seems to have heard of 'checking for fingerprints', so obviously it was me, right?" the prisoner replied sarcastically.

_You've got to be kidding me,_ thought Harry. _Even the Ministry isn't that stupid! Unless he's lying…_ Harry decided to make sure. A quick Legilimency-assisted rummage through the other Harry's relatively unprotected mind revealed that he was in fact telling the truth – the Harry Potter before him had indeed been convicted of several brutal murders before being sentenced to imprisonment in Azkaban and condemned to receive the Dementor's Kiss at a later date.

The other Harry, realising what his doppelganger was doing, spoke. "Hard to believe they'd put a seventeen year old on Death Row, isn't it?" he smirked.

"Bloody hell," muttered Harry.

There was a fairly long silence before either one of them spoke.

"Hey, uh, listen," said the other Harry, breaking the silence. "I don't suppose you can tell me who you are, y'know, before the Dementors come back?"

Harry sighed. "Well, you are right in that you and I aren't the exact same person," he said. "But I am Harry Potter, just from a different timeline."

"Different timeline?"

"Yeah, an alternate reality," elaborated Harry. "I'm a version of you that's lived a different life."

"How different?" asked Harry's other self.

"Well, I was never sent to Azkaban and Percy wasn't tortured to death until I was nineteen," replied Harry. "So I think it's safe to say there're more than a few differences."

"And I suppose there's a reason you're in my 'reality' too, right?" said the other Harry.

"Yeah," nodded Harry. "Except I only wanted to go back in time and save a few lives. I didn't intend to end up…"

"_Harry! I can't hold them off much longer!"_

"Bugger!" cursed Harry. He saw his other self grimace as he too began to hear his worst memories played out in his mind. Harry reached through the bars and grabbed his other self as the first Dementor appeared at the end of the hallway.

"Hold on."

There was a whooshing crack as Harry Apparated the two of them away from Azkaban Prison.

XxXxXxXxXxX

It was early evening, Harry noticed as they appeared on the outskirts of Gryffindor Forest. He stumbled forward slightly before using a tree for support. His other self, who was also trying to keep him on his feet, looked at him with a mixture of amazement and concern. "You okay?" he asked.

Harry nodded slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that Apparating such a long distance through an Anti-Apparition ward takes a lot out of you."

"But how did you…"

"There are ways," interrupted Harry. "It helps if you know if the ward is there first, otherwise you have to use sheer power to break through, which isn't a very good idea."

"Oh," replied the other Harry. The former prisoner looked around him at the trees, his eyes settling on the first sunset he had seen in two and a half years. "Where are we?" he asked after a thirty second pause.

"Gryffindor Forest," answered Harry, by now standing upright again. "Near Godric's Hollow."

"Godric's Hollow?" exclaimed the other Harry. "You Apparated us all the way here through a ward?"

"Well, I had to get you as far away as I could and Gryffindor Forest was the least obvious place you'd go I thought of," said Harry.

"Good point," nodded the other Harry. "Well, uh, thanks. For getting me out of there, I mean."

"Don't mention it," replied Harry. "Besides, I couldn't let a fellow Harry get his soul sucked now, could I?"

"Guess not," mumbled the other Harry.

There was another silence between the two before the conversation resumed from where it had left off in Azkaban. Harry quickly went over how he had tried to go back in time and fix a few things. Surprisingly for Harry, his other self didn't ask many questions like everyone else had done. He didn't complain though, as he wasn't really in the mood to tell the former prisoner his life story.

"So, uh, what're you gonna do now?" asked Harry after the subject had changed.

The other Harry shrugged. "Well, first thing I'm going to do is let Ginny know I'm okay."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" said Harry.

"Well, she should hopefully still have my wand and Invisibility Cloak," responded the other Harry. "Plus, she was the only one who actually visited me."

"What?" gasped Harry. "What about Ron and Hermione?"

"Ginny told me they were still searching for the Horcruxes," shrugged the other Harry. "Probably wouldn't be a good idea to try and find them though, I mean, that's what people'll expect me to do."

"Including Aurors and Death-Eaters," added Harry.

"Right," nodded the other Harry. "Besides, it wouldn't do them much good if anyone found out they were in contact with a convicted felon. No, I'll just get my stuff off Ginny and tell her I'm okay. I'll leave it up to her if she wants to tell the others." He looked at the sunset again. "Better wait 'til the morning though."

"You'll have to get some new clothes too," suggested Harry. "No way you'd go unnoticed in those rags."

The other Harry looked down at his ragged prison robes. "Tomorrow," he mumbled.

"Y'know, I could get some for you…" offered Harry.

"No," interrupted the other one. "You've done enough. Besides, we wouldn't want anyone blasting you while thinking you were me now, would we?"

_Two and a half years in Azkaban, yet he's still thinking of others and has a sense of humour,_ marvelled Harry. _Well, he's not going to dismiss me that easily._ "Well, how about I keep a lookout for any unfriendlies while you get some rest?" he said.

The other Harry looked like he was going to refuse but finally nodded in agreement. "You keep a lookout, then I'll take a turn…"

"Then I'll take another turn until dawn, if I'm still here," interrupted Harry.

"Okay, okay," said Harry's other self as he sat down against a nearby tree. After a few seconds, he looked up. "Hey, uh, what d'you mean 'if you're still here'?"

"That 'spectacular entrance' of mine, as you call it, takes me to and from realities whenever it pleases, so if you wake up and find I'm gone, then that'll be why," explained Harry.

The former prisoner nodded and said nothing more. Soon, he was fast asleep.

Harry looked at the sleeping figure curiously. _Well, he seemed to take the whole 'alternate reality' thing well,_ he thought as he watched his other self. _Then again, he probably has more to worry about than how or why I'm here. Good thing too seeing as I don't have to answer the same questions for the…_ He stopped for a second. This was the tenth reality he had visited now, yet from Harry's perspective, it had only been about two or three days. _Unbelievable,_ thought Harry as he watched the sun disappear over the horizon.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Several hours later, Harry heard something stirring nearby. He turned, only to realise that his other self was waking up. He looked at his watch – 2:19 AM. _Oh well, five hours isn't too bad._

His other self rubbed his eyes and looked up at Harry. "So, anything happen?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing much – just a couple of owls flying around and a passing werewolf."

"Werewolf?" exclaimed the other Harry ass his eyes darted towards the full moon. "You're kidding, right?" he said as he got up.

"Yeah, I'm kidding," said Harry. "Though I wouldn't have minded dealing one, seeing how it probably would have given me something to do."

"Right," said the other Harry sarcastically. "And I suppose you've dealt with werewolves before, right?"

"A few," shrugged Harry, remembering the time Fenrir Greyback had tried to bite Ron, shortly before Ron's final battle.

The other Harry gave him a look of surprise as he straightened out the rags that had once been robes. "First thing in the morning, I'm getting a disguise of some kind," he muttered. "Where'd ya get that jacket of yours?"

"This old thing?" said Harry. "Muggle clothes shop somewhere in Scotland, can't remember where though."

"I suppose Muggle clothes'd be the best option if I want to have a chance of blending in and not be noticed by any passing Aurors," agreed Harry's other self. "I'll just have to make sure no-one gets a good look at this thing," he added, pointing at the scar on his forehead. "Pity I didn't take after that one uncle of my dad's, who I'm told was a Metamorphmagus."

"Well, according to Tonks, I might have," replied Harry. "I just never got around to trying to learn. That's why I nicked that book from Hog…"

He stopped suddenly. _The book!_ he thought as his hand felt the so far unread book in his jacket pocket. He reached into his pocket and took it out. _He probably needs it more than me, and I seriously doubt he'll be able to just go into a shop and but a copy of his own,_ he reasoned as he held out the book for the other Harry to take.

"What's this?" he asked, taking the book from Harry.

"A book I pilfered from the Hogwarts Library in the reality before last," answered Harry. "I was going to try and learn the basics so I could at least hide my scar, but I didn't get a chance to look at it in the last reality."

The other Harry squinted at the book, barely able to make out the title in the moonlight. "Metamorphosis: A Guide," he mumbled.

Harry nodded. "Keep it. You probably need it more than me."

His other self looked at him, then at the book. "You sure?"

"Yeah," replied Harry. "Besides, I can get another copy in another reality."

The other Harry nodded. "Thanks," He paused and put the book in his last remaining pocket. "Your turn," he said, nodding towards the tree nearest Harry.

Harry sighed and sat down, knowing that his other self would probably insist if he get some sleep if he tried to refuse. He closed his eyes and within a few minutes, he had fallen asleep.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Ten minutes later, when he was sure his 'other self' was asleep, Harry stood up and started to walk away.

After a few steps, he paused and took the book he had been given out of his pocket. "Lumos," he muttered, holding his hand over the book as he opened it with his other hand. A dim light formed just above his palm as he flicked through the first few pages of the book. He then extinguished the light and closed the book. He looked back at the sleeping figure in the leather jacket. "Thanks," he muttered, before starting to walk away again.

He had just passed the final tree and was now outside the forest when he heard a strange noise from behind him. Turning around, he saw in the near distance that other him was being engulfed by the same blue light that had brought his saviour into his world. The aura, which to Harry sounded like a strange mixture of chimes, a church choir and some sounds that would have fit in well in a sci-fi film, seemed to flow through the other Harry before the light seemed to implode in an almost blinding flash.

Harry blinked slightly and looked at the now empty space under the tree before turning and walking down the hill and into the night.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

A short chapter, I know, but this is really meant to set up the beginning of the next reality (i.e. when Harry wakes up/is woken up). Anyway, I'll try and get the next chapter, as well as SoTG Chapter 2, done over Christmas and New Year.

**Concerning 'The Story of The Guys'**

All other stuff about SoTG will be addressed in that story's A/Ns. What I will say is that, though I agree with Zero Blitz that Slytherin Harry/Ginny would be good for the conflict, I'm also fairly sure that it's probably been done before and would also probably end up being similar to the many Malfoy/Ginny stories out there. Besides, I think you're going to enjoy what I've got in mind.

**Concerning this story**

Why do I get the feeling someone's been hacking into my computer? At this rate I won't have any ideas I can claim are my own. Glares at Cocoa Girl, who's just scratched the surface of several (but not all) of my best ideas. Oh well, at least there's more to them than you probably think and I've still got plenty other ideas that haven't been mentioned.

Anyway, enjoy what little I've put up and Merry Christmas.


	12. CHAPTER 11  Child of the Streets

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if anyone wants to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read S'TarKan's 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN – Child of the Streets.**

"Oi!" said a voice as Harry felt his leg being nudged by someone's foot.

Harry opened his eyes and found that he was no longer in the middle of a forest. Instead, he was sitting in an alleyway between a skip and a dustbin. He looked up to see who was addressing him. It was a policeman – a Muggle policeman.

"Alright there, sunshine?" he said in a sarcastically enthusiastic voice. "Had a good kip, have you?"

"Um... yeah, I guess," mumbled Harry. "Wasn't too bad."

"Well, that's good to hear," replied the policeman in a still sarcastic voice. "Alright, come on. Get up and get out of here. Your place far or do you need a lift home?"

"Um... no. No, I'm fine, thanks," stammered Harry as he got up.

"You sure?" asked the policeman. He looked at Harry suspiciously. "You do have a home to go to, don't you?"

"Well, uh…" said Harry. "No, not really…"

"Oh," interrupted the policeman. "Okay. Just don't let me find you sleeping on the street again. We've got enough kids sleeping on the streets as it is without anyone else joining in."

"Don't worry," nodded Harry. "I probably won't be around here for long."

"Fair enough," relented the policeman. "Good day."

"Yeah, you too," said Harry as the policeman turned to walk away.

_Blimey, that's all we need,_ thought PC Jack Davis. _Yet another homeless kid sleeping on the streets and causing trouble._ As he left the alleyway, he turned and saw that the long-haired youth he'd just been talking to had already gone. _Something about that guy seemed familiar though..._

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry looked at his watch as he walked along the busy street. Yet again, his watch had somehow synchronised itself with the current reality and indicated the date as being the 30th of August. _Oh well, now all I have to do is find out where I am and what year it is._ He started looking around him. He was in the middle of a city, that much he had figured out, but which one? It might have been London, but then again, it could just as likely be somewhere else like Manchester or Birmingham, assuming he was even in England. Not long afterwards he spotted a road sign depicting a roundabout with branches towards places like Watford, St Albans and Reading. _Must be in London then,_ concluded Harry. _Well, at least I know where I am now, but I still need to find out why I'm here…_

Suddenly, Harry saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a figure in a black cloak, watching him. _He must be a wizard,_ thought Harry. _Maybe I can get some answers from him._ He started walking towards the cloaked figure, only for the stranger to start walking rapidly away once he realised he had been spotted.

"Hey, wait!" called Harry as he quickened his own pace. "I just want to talk! Wait!" He started to run, but when he had nearly caught up with the stranger, something happened that Harry didn't expect.

As the cloaked figure rounded a corner, Harry noticed that the stranger had started to glow blue. A few seconds late, there was a flash and the cloaked figure vanished.

Harry stood there, dumbstruck. _What the…? Did he just…? No, it couldn't be…_

As Harry stood there, distracted by what he had just seen, he suddenly felt a hand dip into his jacket pocket. In the blink of an eye, he seized the wrist of the would-be thief, kneed him in the stomach and threw the pickpocket onto the pavement. The thief scrambled to his feet surprisingly quickly and faced Harry with a surprised expression on his face. Harry looked at the thief with a look of equal surprise, all thought of the cloaked stranger pushed to the back of his mind for now – the thief was just a boy. _Oh my god, he's just a kid._ thought Harry incredulously. _I nearly got my pocket picked by a fucking ten-year old!_ He watched as the boy regard him curiously. After a few seconds, the boy spoke.

"That was pretty good mister," he gasped, clutching his stomach.

_What the fuck is he doing? _wondered Harry. _He's just tried to pickpocket me and been found out. He should be running as fast as his little legs'll take him._ "Um… thanks," he said uncertainly. "Uh… shouldn't you be, y'know, running like hell before I go to the police or something?"

The boy's eyes widened slightly. "You're not gonna, are you?" he said with a hint of panic in his voice.

Harry shook his head. "No point. I don't really have anything worth nicking anyhow."

"Oh," said the boy, who was still looking at him curiously, particularly at Harry's forehead. There was an awkward silence, which seemed to annoy Harry. _Oh for crying out loud, why does everyone have to stare at this bloody scar. I mean, it's bad enough that it usually triggers people wanting autographs, but even Muggles have to stare at it…_

"Hey, uh, you wouldn't be related to Harry, would you?" the boy suddenly asked.

"Harry?" said Harry. "Harry who?" _Better make sure_, thought Harry as he spoke.

"Just some guy I know with a scar on his head just like yours," answered the boy. "He looks a bit like you too. You're not his brother or somethin', are you?"

"That depends on who this 'Harry' is," responded Harry. "I mean, you're not exactly giving me much to go on. You could at least give me this guy's surname."

"What?" exclaimed the boy. "Oh, right. Sorry. Um, well, his name's Harry Potter, but most of us call him Jinx."

_So he does know my other self,_ thought Harry._ Wait a minute…_

"Jinx?" queried Harry. _Why the hell would anyone call me that, unless he had more of the 'Harry Potter luck' than I do._

"Uh, yeah," replied the boy. "Weird stuff kinda happens around him, mostly to our rivals and the plods..."

_Plods?_ thought Harry for a second. _Oh, right, the police._

"That's why everyone likes having him around," continued the boy. "He may not be 'Mr Socialite' but he's def'nitely a good luck charm for us."

_Weird stuff? Yup, that definitely sounds like a younger me_, concluded Harry. _Especially if he's talking about accidental magic. _"Harry Potter," he mumbled, nodding slightly.

"You know him?" said the boy.

"Maybe," answered Harry. "I was told I have a cousin called Harry, but I haven't seen him since he was a baby."

"You're… bloody hell, you are related to him, aren't you?" gasped the boy. "C'mon then. If you are a cousin or whatever, then he'll want to meet you. C'mon!"

Harry watched the boy run off in front of him. "C'mon," the boy called again._ Guess I'd better follow him,_ thought Harry as he started half-running to catch up with the boy. Soon, the two were walking at a rapid pace.

"So what's your name?" asked the boy.

"Walter," answered Harry, calling on yet another of one of his aliases. "Walter Powell. But most folk just call me Walt. You?"

"My name's Mike Archer. Everyone calls me Mikey, though," responded the boy. "So what d'you know about Harry?"

"Well, if your Harry Potter is my cousin, then he's my Uncle James's son," answered Harry, the fabrication requiring little effort. "I was told he'd been sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle on his mother's side…"

"Oh, you mean the Dursleys?" replied Mike. "Harry ran away from them years ago. When they refused to take him back after the plods pick'd him up, he was sent to St Mary's. That's where we first met. It's where just about all of us met, come to think of it. After a while, we all got fed up of it and Harry suggested we just leave, so we did and we've been streetkids ever since."

_Ran away from the Dursleys?_ thought Harry, remembering the times he had tried to run away himself, only to be taken back by the police or those 'strange people', who Harry now knew must have been wizards._ Hold on. If he ran away, why didn't Dumbledore or someone take him back to the Dursleys? I mean, if he was in St Mary's Orphanage for a few years, then surely someone must have known. Then, as if that isn't bad enough, now I'm apparently one of those homeless kids that sleep on the streets. How could this be allowed to happen? What the hell's going on?_

XxXxXxXxXxX

Eventually, Harry and Mike both arrived at what looked like a derelict old garage. Mike knocked on a door which looked like it was barely on its hinges.

"Who is it?" yelled a voice from behind the door.

"Mikey Archer," replied Mike.

The door opened slightly. "Hey there, Mikey," greeted another boy who Harry guessed to be about fifteen. The boy suddenly noticed Harry and straightened up slightly. "Who the fuck is this?" he exclaimed, glaring at Mike. "What've I told ya 'bout brining random people back here. He could be..."

"Cool it Gav," interrupted Mike. "He's not a plod or a social worker. He's here to see Harry."

"Harry?" said 'Gav', still holding the door half closed. "Christ, don't tell me he's another one of those weirdoes looking for him!"

"No," said Mike. "I think he's a relative."

Gav looked at Harry and opened the door a little wider. "You're related to Jinx?"

"Maybe," said Harry. "Won't be able to tell you until I see him for myself though."

Gav pondered for a few seconds before nodding hesitantly. "Alright, you can come in, but if you go to the plods afterwards, I swear I'll…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," interrupted Harry, not in the mood for being threatened by a fifteen year old 'thug', as this 'Gav' was probably trying to sound like. "Look, I just want to see if this 'Harry Potter' is really related to me, alright. I'm not interested in paying any visits to the cop shop anytime soon, okay?"

Gav scowled at Harry but nodded and let Harry and Mike in.

"Hey, Har'!" yelled Mike. Several kids, mostly boys but some girls also, looked up briefly when they heard Mike's voice. Many of them stared at the stranger in the leather jacket and others started mumbling about 'that guy'. Only one person actually got up and went over to Mike, though this surprised no one, as Harry Potter and Mikey Archer were the best of friends.

"Hey Mike," said the young raven-haired boy as he approached them. "Half-inch anything good today?"

Mike shook his head and grinned. "No, but I've found somethin' you'll most def'nitely be int'rested in."

At first, young Harry didn't know what his friend meant, then he saw the unfamiliar figure in the leather jacket standing behind Mike. _Who the…?_ he thought.

"He says his name's Walter Powell and that he reckons he's your cousin," continued Mike.

"What?" gasped the young Harry. "But… I… I… he's… what?"

Harry watched as his younger self tried desperately to say something. He suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. _He's just been told he has family other than the Dursleys, _he realised. _But at some point I'll have to tell him the truth and he'll have got his hopes of there being other members of his family up for nothing._

Eventually, the younger Harry calmed down and looked at his 'cousin' with an incredibly shocked look on his face. _Maybe I'd better get him somewhere where we can talk privately, _thought Harry. He looked around the room and saw that everyone was staring in their direction, probably wondering what was going on. Their minds were broadcasting all sorts of questions through the room, which Harry couldn't help but notice because of his Legilimency, _What's wrong with Jinx?_ and _Whoa, is he Jinx's brother or something? _being the main ones.

"Um, look, Harry," said Harry, addressing his other self. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" He looked at Mike. "Alone," he added. "No offence, Mike."

"No… no, it's… it's okay," stuttered Mike. "I… I understand."

As Mike walked away, the younger Harry spoke. "C'mon," he instructed quietly before leading Harry to a room at the back of the building, probably an old office or something similar. They both sat down on a couple of old armchairs that had been rescued from a skip. The younger Harry looked at the stranger in the leather jacket, closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. "Is it true?" he asked after a few seconds pause. "Are you really my cousin?"

Harry sighed. _I'd better tell him the truth now and get it over with._ "Look, I'm sorry I have to do this to you, kid, but I'm not your cousin." He lifted the hair that was covering his scar. "I'm you."

The young Harry sat there in silence, gaping at Harry's scar. "You're me?" he whispered after a long pause.

"Sort of," replied Harry.

"How?" asked the other Harry in an unnaturally quiet voice.

"Long story," said Harry, shaking his head. "Basically, I'm you but from an alternate reality."

"A what?" said the other Harry, his voice slightly louder this time.

"Have you ever watched any sci-fi?" Harry asked his other self. "Y'know, stuff like Star Trek, Stargate, Quantum Leap, Babylon 5, Sliders, that sort of thing?"

"Um… no. Not really," mumbled the other Harry.

"Well, an alternate reality is pretty much another universe where things are exactly the same, but with some differences, some slight, some major. For example, in my reality, I was forced to stay with the Dursleys for the whole of my childhood," explained Harry.

"No!" the younger Harry exclaimed involuntarily.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly my choice," sighed Harry.

There was another awkward silence.

"But…" stammered the younger Harry. "If you're me, but from another universe or whatever, then how did you…" He stopped suddenly. "Oh my god…" he mumbled before suddenly getting up and rushing out of the room.

Harry quickly got up and followed his younger self, wondering what the boy was so worried about. He soon joined his younger self in a corner where Mike was sitting on top of one of two sleeping bags. _This must be their space,_ thought Harry as he watched his other self rummaging through the few possessions he had. After a few seconds, the younger Harry held up and envelope and pulled out a letter.

"Hey, that's that weird letter you got a few weeks ago, isn't it?" said Mike.

"Yeah," said the younger Harry as he handed the letter to the older Harry.

Harry only had to glance at the letter to tell it was a Hogwarts letter. _Hold on, _he thought as he read the bottom of the letter. _Please reply by the 30th of August? Wait a minute..._ He checked the date on his watch again to make sure. _Shit, that's today!_ He looked at his younger self in sheer disbelief. _Why the hell has no one come to find him? Christ, he probably thinks this letter's some kind of joke!_

"Hey, Walt! What's up?" interjected Mike.

Harry ignored him. "You want to know if this is real, right?" he said, addressing his other self as he handed back the letter.

The other Harry nodded.

"It is," said Harry plainly.

"What?" exclaimed Mike. "Witchcraft and Wizardy? Magic? Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? We're supposed to believe that all that's real?"

"Yes Mike, it is real!" Harry found himself shouting. By now, the others had began to gather around, wondering what was going on.

"Hey, what's goin' on here?" shouted Gav as approached them.

"Walt here reckons that weird letter Harry got is real," explained Mike.

"Y'what?" exclaimed another boy.

"Yeah right," said a girl.

"Prove it," said yet another boy.

"Alright," responded Harry, holding out his hand. There were several gasps and many people backed away when a ball of light suddenly appeared above Harry's palm.

"What the…?"

"You…"

"Blimey!"

"How did you…?"

"Bloody hell!"

"Cool!"

Harry clenched his fist and extinguished the light. _What should I show them now?_ Harry wondered. _Ah, I know…_ He then held out his hand above his head and heard yet more gasps as streams of light radiated from the ends of his fingers. The jets of light danced around them, between them, bathing them all in the glow of just about every colour imaginable. For a moment, the awe on the faces of the others reminded Harry of the first, and only, time he had performed the 'lightshow' to Ginny – that moment was probably one of the happiest he had ever seen her. It was also one of his happiest memories, as well as being his last true moment of happiness – a few days later, Dumbledore was dead and Harry had broken off their relationship in the hope that it would be safer for her, only for her to die in his arms less than six months later. As he ended the lightshow, he resisted the urge to take the picture that had been taken that day out of his pocket – now wasn't the time for dwelling on the past.

There was a long silence. Everyone was staring at both Harry and his other self. After a while, the others finally started talking.

"Wow!" exclaimed one girl. "How'd ya do that?"

"Yeah," agreed the boy standing beside her. "That was amazing!"

"Hold on," said another boy. "If he's Jinx's cousin or whatever, then does that mean Harry can do that to? I mean, it would explain all that weird stuff that always happens around him."

"Bloody hell!" said Mike, staring at the letter in his friend's hand. "You know what this means, Harry?"

"It's real," mumbled the younger Harry. He looked at the letter again. "Shit. It's too late now. The reply has to be in by today…"

"Don't worry about it," interrupted Harry. "I'll deal with it," He pointed to the envelope in Harry's hand. "You've still got the list of equipment, right?"

The other Harry put his hand in the envelope and pulled out another piece of paper. "Where'm I supposed to get all this stuff? And how? There's no way I'll be able to get anywhere enough dosh to get even one of these books, let alone a 'wand' or a 'cauldron'…"

"Don't worry," interrupted Harry. "I'll take you around Diagon Alley later. But first, I'd better take care of Dumbledore."

With that, he took a step backward so no one was too near him and Apparated away, triggering yet more shocked gasps from the group.

XxXxXxXxXxX

_Well,_ Harry thought as he entered the main door of Hogwarts castle. _Back again._

_Another left,_ he thought as he rounded yet another corner, a few minutes later. _And another right._ He rounded another corner and stopped in front of a very familiar statue. _And here we are. Now, what will his password be right now?_

"Lemon Drop," he tried. Nothing happened.

He tried again. "Chocolate Frog." Again, nothing happened.

"Sherbet Lemon." Nothing.

"Um… Cockroach Cluster?" he suggested, using the ridiculous one that Dumbledore had once used. Again, nothing.

"Oh, for crying out… Gobstopper, chewing gum, bubblegum, Jelly Baby, Mint Humbug, Liquorice Bootlace." He kicked the statue in frustration. "Mars Bar, Dairy Milk, Wine Gum, After Eight, Toffee Apple…"

"Actually, I am quite partial to Orkney Fudge at the moment," said a familiar voice. Harry whirled around and faced Albus Dumbledore, trying to hide the look of surprise on his face. He noticed, however, that Dumbledore looked almost as surprised. _Damn, he must've seen my scar or something,_ thought Harry, regretting his decision to give the prisoner in the last reality that book. _Or maybe he just wasn't expecting some stranger in Muggle clothes to be outside his office trying to figure out which sweetie he's using as a password._

As always, there was a long and awkward silence before someone spoke.

"Um…" said Harry, trying to break the silence. "Hi."

Dumbeldore continued to look at Harry suspiciously. _Good god, I never thought I'd see Dumbledore speechless,_ thought Harry. _Then again, I never thought I'd ever see him alive again._

After a few seconds, Harry noticed Dumbledore's eyes twinkle, just like they always did. Just then, Harry felt something poking at his Occlumency, however this quickly stopped. "Perhaps we should sit down in my office," Dumbledore suggested when he realised he would not be able to confirm his suspicions through Legilimency, moving forward towards the entrance to his office. Harry nodded in agreement and said the password. Immediately, the statue began to move, revealing the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

They both entered and sat down.

"It appears that you have me at a disadvantage," said Dumbledore. "You appear to know me well enough to know the form of which my passwords take, yet I am uncertain as to your identity, Mr…"

"Who I am is unimportant at this stage," said Harry. "What is important is the fact that Harry Potter is currently living in a dilapidated garage somewhere in London and was completely unaware of his wizard heritage until fifteen minutes ago."

"Ah," said Dumbledore, sitting back in his chair slightly. "Yes, well, unfortunately we have been forced to deal with another problem that has arisen which concerns your alternate self, if I may be so bold as to hazard a guess to your identity."

"What?" exclaimed Harry. _How the hell did he…?_ He looked at Dumbledore, who returned the look as he waited for confirmation of his suspicions. "It was the scar, wasn't it?" guessed Harry.

"It confirmed it," replied Dumbledore. "However, it was your eyes that made me suspect. They do look very much like…"

"My mother's, I know," interrupted Harry quickly. "But what made you say 'alternate'? Surely, 'future self' would have been a better guess."

"Perhaps so," agreed Dumbledore. "However, if you were indeed from the future, then you would know why your other self had been allowed to remain on the streets and why we haven't been able to address your situation until recently."

"Recently?" said Harry. "You mean you've sent people already?"

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "However, he never seems to be in that 'dilapidated garage' as you call it. Also, his friends can be surprisingly difficult for Muggles."

Harry paused for a second and nodded. _So that's what 'Gav' meant by 'another one of those weirdoes. _"Alright. I can accept that, but why is he even in that garage in the first place? When I tried to run away, I was always returned to the Dursleys, either by the police or some 'strange person in robes'. What was different for this Harry?"

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore quietly. "It seems that your relatives were more willing to take you back than… our Harry's were. I'm sure you know the reasons for being made to stay with you aunt, correct?"

"My mother's protection," mumbled Harry.

"Indeed," nodded Dumbledore. "However, in order for that protection to work, your relatives had to be willing to look after you, no matter how grudgingly. When our Harry's aunt and uncle refused to take him back in, we kept an eye on him from then on while he was in St Mary's and later, the streets, helping out whenever we could."

"The strange things that happened whenever the group was in trouble?" said Harry.

"Mostly our doing, though young Harry appears to have a natural talent for wandless magic, though he probably doesn't realise it," confirmed Dumbledore. "Fortunately, that will no longer be necessary."

"Why not?" asked Harry.

"The problem that has so distracted us recently has now been dealt with," replied Dumbledore. "Thanks to Professor Quirrell, we now have Peter Pettigrew in custody and Sirius Black is now free to care for young Harry once the school year is over."

"Wh… you've… Pettigrew… Quirrell…" spluttered Harry, not sure what to think. _They've caught Pettigrew? Sirius's been pardoned? Quirrell caught Pettigrew!?!_

"I see you were not expecting that piece of information," chuckled Dumbledore. "Indeed, had it not been for that cloaked figure who revealed the truth about young Master Weasley's pet, then we may never have learnt of young Pettigrew's true allegiances."

"Cloaked figure?" said Harry, as his thoughts suddenly returned to what he had seen shortly after his conversation with the policeman. "Hmm…"

"You know of this person?" queried Dumbledore.

Harry shook his head. "Just thinking of something I saw after I arrived here. In this reality, I mean." He paused for a few seconds. _Could it have been the same guy?_ Harry wondered briefly, ignoring Dumbledore's second attempt at Legilimency. "There's no point trying. You wouldn't be able to find any additional info on your mysterious cloak-wearing friend, even if you could read my thoughts," he said without looking at Dumbledore. He paused again slightly before changing the subject. "You mentioned something about Quirrell. What happened?"

"Well, as soon as Arthur Weasley reported what had happened to the Ministry, a manhunt was initiated and several of our staff participated in the search. Quirinus, in particular, was most diligent. He cancelled his trip to Eastern Europe and joined the search for Peter. It was he who finally cornered him and prevented a repeat of the massacre for which Sirius Black was imprisoned for. In fact, he has just been awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class for his actions."

_So Quirrell hasn't been possessed by Voldemort,_ thought Harry as he heard this. _Oh well, at least that'll be one less thing for this reality's Harry to worry about._

"Now that that's all been dealt with, we've been able to turn our attentions to young Harry," continued Dumbledore. "In fact, you just missed Minerva's departure."

"McGonagall?" said Harry. "Oh, that's fine, just as long as the others don't give her a hard time."

Dumbledore gave Harry a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"This Harry's a child of the street, as are his friends," elaborated Harry. "Trust me, street-kids like them are very loyal to one another."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "In that case, perhaps you would like to return to London and assist Minerva."

"Good idea," nodded Harry as he stood up. "By the way, I have told him the truth about who I am, but I haven't had a chance to tell him about anything else, including the prophecy, whatever that might be in this reality."

Dumbledore looked at him and said nothing. "Do not worry. I intend to tell young Harry the truth soon enough. I feel that he will probably be able to cope with the implications of Sybil's prophecy."

"Alright," nodded Harry. "It was good to see you again Albus. Take care."

"And you, Lone Traveller," replied Dumbledore.

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a few seconds before returning the old man's smile and Apparating away.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Walt!" cried Mike, as Harry appeared in the middle of the old garage to a chorus of yet more shocked gasps.

"Is Harry still here?" asked Harry quickly.

"What?" said Mike. "Um, no. Some old woman in weird clothes came and said she was here to explain a few things. She seemed very surprised when we mention'd you though."

"You didn't tell her you'd seen me do magic, did you?" he asked, hoping that no one would have to be obliviated anytime soon.

"We mentioned it," answered Mike. "She said that it wouldn't be a problem, though. Anyway, she said she'd be taking Harry to that place you mentioned earlier, Deacon Alley or something like that."

"Diagon Alley," corrected Harry. "Alright, thanks."

Before anyone could say anything else, Harry had already disappeared again.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Two days later, as Harry led his other self through the barrier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride towards his other self. Not only had he taken both Harry's existence better than he would have at that age, but he had also coped with the revelation that he was a wizard a lot better than he had. Where Harry had looked out of place and lost when Hagrid had first taken him to Diagon Alley, this Harry looked like he belonged there. He had asked all the questions that Harry wished he himself had asked the first time and had hid his surprise and wonder a lot better than Harry had.

He heard his other self gasp slightly as they both caught sight of the maroon coloured steam train. _Same reaction as mine,_ noted Harry, somehow glad that they weren't really that different.

"Well, Harry," he addressed his other self. "There it is. The Hogwarts Express."

The other Harry said nothing in response.

"C'mon, kid," smiled Harry. "Let's get your stuff on board."

The other Harry nodded and pushed the luggage trolley towards the luggage compartment, where his trunk and the cage that contained his new pet Barn Owl, Hermod, were both loaded onto the train.

"Don't worry," reassured Harry when he saw the concerned look on his other self's face. "He'll be fine."

The other Harry nodded.

"Well, this is where our paths separate, kid," said Harry. "By tonight, you'll be at Hogwarts and I'll be in another world."

""Will you be okay?" the other Harry asked.

_Always putting everyone else before himself, _thought Harry as he heard this. "I'll be fine, Harry," he said. "Now get yourself onto that train, it's nearly eleven. Go on, and good luck."

Harry watched as his younger self stepped hesitantly onto the train. _God, he's gonna love it,_ he thought as he heard a whistle blow. _He's going to Hogwarts, then at the end of the year, he'll have a home with a godfather who cares about him._ He paused for a second as he remembered his other self's goodbye to his friends – that was what really made Harry feel proud to be a Harry Potter. The boy's insistent, almost forceful, promises that he wouldn't forget about them and would do anything to help them out if they needed it had nearly brought a tear to Harry's eye. _With loyalty like that, I wouldn't be surprised if the Sorting Hat makes him a Hufflepuff,_ Harry thought as the train began to move. _Harry the Hufflepuff, _he smirked slightly at the thought. _Pity I can't stick around to see Hufflepuff win either the Quidditch Cup or the House Cup. The look on the Slytherins' faces would have been priceless considering how 'mediocre' the Hufflepuffs supposedly are. Oh well…_

He suddenly saw his other self give him a wave through the window as the train began to move out of the station. Harry raised his arm slightly and returned the gesture as he felt the familiar sensation of the mysterious aura as it engulfed him.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Well, hopefully this makes up for the length, or lack thereof, of the last chapter.

For those who may not know, Chapter 1 of 'The Story of The Guys' is now up, with Chapter 2 hopefully finished soon.

The name of this Harry's owl, Hermod, is also that of the Norse (Viking) Messenger God. The reason for the different owl is because I reckoned that 'Hedwig' would have been sold by the time this Harry got a chance to go to Diagon Alley. The name I figured might have been suggested by Harry as I can't really imagine that he wouldn've have wanted his familiar's name to go to another owl, out of respect for his long-dead companion.

**Tritium** – How The Lone Traveller becomes a legend will be partially explained later.

**Benoni** – Wow. Thanks for the compliments. Oh, and it's funny how you suggest I put in a long-term story arc JUST BEFORE I post the chapter where I introduce it.

Y'know, I still think someone's hacked into my notes somehow.

Only joking. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy.

Any SoTG questions in these reviews will be addressed in the SoTG Author Notes.


	13. CHAPTER 12  Tom & Jerry

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if anyone wants to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read S'TarKan's 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER TWELVE – Tom & Jerry.**

As Harry's vision cleared after a ten second pause, he expected to be somewhere completely different.

He wasn't – he was still on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

_But I've just 'moved on'! _thought Harry as he looked around him. _Why am I still here?_

Somehow, no one had noticed his entrance as everyone was too busy boarding the maroon coloured train. _The Hogwarts Express? But it just left!_ He stopped for a second and thought about it. _No it hasn't, this version of the Hogwarts Express hasn't left yet._ He looked up at the station clock and saw that the train wasn't due to leave for another ten minutes. He looked around him at the families around the train and noticed something strange about them.

_What's with all the fancy clothes?_ Harry wondered as he observed one smartly dressed boy receiving a hug from his mother, who was wearing the kind of dress that indicated a wealthy family, and an encouraging hand on the shoulder from his father, who for some reason, was wearing a top hat. _Oh my god! How far back in time have I gone this time?_ He decided to move a bit closer, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from some due to his hair and Muggle clothes. _Maybe I should try talking to someone, _Harry considered. Before he could pick out someone who looked likely to help him, Harry felt something ram into him.

"What the…" he muttered as he spun around and saw that it was a luggage trolley that had hit him. The boy who had been pushing the trolley started to go red as he stammered through an apology…

"S… sorry mister, I… uh… lost control," the boy said nervously. "I… I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry 'bout it, kid. Trust me, I know just how hard those things are to control," said Harry. _He looks a bit like Dad!_ he thought as he regarded the boy. _I wonder…_

"Gerald!" he heard a voice call. "What have you done now?" A tall woman with dark hair, which had been done up in a bun, came up to them and addressed Harry. "I'm so sorry!" She turned to her young son. "I hope you've apologised…" she said with a scolding voice.

"He has," interrupted Harry. "And it's all right, I'm fine."

"Good, good," The boy's mother said quickly before taking the trolley and addressing her son. "Come along Gerald."

As Harry watched the two join the rest of their family near the front end of the train. _You have got to be kidding me. Don't tell me that boy was my Dad's Uncle Gerald, the Metamorphmagus._ He watched as Gerald got on board the train, closely followed by a much older looking girl, probably a fifth year, and another boy, most likely a third year. _I wonder if he's my grandfather,_ thought Harry. _He does have the same colour of hair as Dad, just nowhere near as messy. But why have I been sent back to see my grandfather and his siblings go to school? Unless I'm supposed to do something to help one of them. Oh well, I guess I should get on board._

Harry immediately made his way to the nearest door and jumped aboard. When he was sure that no one was looking, he Disillusioned himself and set out to find this reality's version of his grandfather. As it turned out, Harry didn't have to look far as he found Gerald being ushered into a compartment by his older brother, though the boys' older sister seemed to disapprove of this.

"Harold! Leave Gerald alone!" she said loudly. "Let him do his own thing."

"But what if he mixes with the wrong sort?" responded Harold.

_Harold? Wrong sort?_ thought Harry as he watched the scene from down the corridor. _Oh god, please tell me my grandfather and namesake isn't a racist…_

"I'm sure he won't Harold," replied Harold's older sister.

Harold looked at his sister, then at his younger brother. "All right, Mary," he relented before addressing his little brother. "Clear off then. Just don't let me catch you talking to any riff-raff or Mother and Father will hear of it!"

_What does he mean 'Mother and Father will hear of it'?_ wondered Harry as he stood to one side to allow young Gerald to pass. _Oh fuck, don't tell me the whole Potter family are Pure-blood fanatics!_ However, as Gerald passed he heard the boy mutter something that sounded like "I'll talk to whoever I want to, you pompous fool," Harry grinned at his great uncle as the boy disappeared through the door to the next carriage.

"What was that?" shouted Harold, having heard his little brother mutter something, though he didn't know what.

"Oh leave him," said another boy who Harry didn't recognise. "Come on."

Harold nodded and joined his friends in the compartment. Harry decided to listen in for a while.

"You don't think you're being overprotective of your brother, do you?" one of Harold's friends asked.

"Maybe," agreed Harold. "I just don't want Gerald hanging around with any working class riff-raff. I mean, it's bad enough that they come to Hogwarts in rags, expecting the school to pay for their school equipment, without them bringing their foul-mouths and thieving ways with them."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," agreed another boy. "Unfortunately, most of them are Muggle-borns, so you have to be careful if you don't want to be accused of being anti-Muggle born."

"Stupid Muggle-borns," muttered Harold. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind Muggle-borns that much, especially when they're used to everything. They're not too bad then, as long as they don't go on about how Muggles do things. Oh well…"

_Okay, so he's more 'anti-poor people' than 'anti-Muggle born',_ thought Harry with some sense of relief as he realised who the 'wrong sort' his grandfather had been talking about were. _I still reckon he needs taken down a peg or two. _He was about to cast a wandless non-verbal Drenching spell on his grandfather when he noticed someone running towards him. Harry dodged out of his way as the boy stuck his head through the compartment door.

"Harold!" the boy exclaimed.

"Edward!" Harold responded. "What is it?"

"Your brother," gasped Edward. "He's busy talking to some riff-raff boy!"

"What?" exclaimed Harold as he and his two friends suddenly stood up. "Are you sure?"

"I think so," replied Edward. "The boy's clothes looked old and I overheard the boy saying he was new to the wizarding world."

"Betcha he's from the slums," interjected one of Harold's friends.

"Yeah," agreed the other. "Let's go and teach him some respect."

Harold nodded and the four boys left the compartment. As a still Disillusioned Harry followed them through the train, he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. _Bloody hell, and I thought the whole 'pure-blood superiority' thing was stupid, but hating poor people as if they were an inferior race of some kind? How stupid can you get? And to think that guy's the one who raised my Dad? Un-be-fucking-lievable!_

Soon, Harry found himself watching Harold yelling at his little brother, while the others were harassing the dark haired boy in the corner, who almost looked terrified, though Harry could tell the boy was trying to hide it. _Why does that boy look familiar?_ Harry wondered as he listened to Harold's yelling for a few seconds. _Guess I should intervene, _Harry thought as he made himself visible again before entering the compartment.

"Is there a problem here?" Harry asked in the most authoritative voice he could muster. Everyone stopped and turned towards the source of the voice.

"Who the devil are you?" exclaimed one of the boys.

Harry smirked at the boy. "I believe I just asked you all a question, kid," he said, emphasising the word 'kid'. "Now kindly answer it."

Harold looked at the alternate version of his grandson with contempt. "Defending your fellow riff-raff, are you?" he sneered.

_Oh my god, he sounds just like Malfoy!_ Harry thought, but he maintained his composure. "Riff-raff?" he smirked. "Pardon me for asking this, but what are you talking about?"

"You're like him, aren't you?" said Edward, pointing at the boy in the corner. "Some Muggle-born from the slums or something."

"Hmm," Harry responded mockingly. "Nope, sorry. My Dad was a pure-blood so I don't think that charming little description applies to me."

The boys stared at Harry incredulously. "But… if you're pure-blood, why're you dressed like a Muggle?" stammered one of the boys.

Harry looked down at his leather jacket and jeans. "What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?" he asked, sarcastically pretending that he cared about their opinions. "I like this jacket."

There was a slight pause. Harry stood to one side slightly so that the doorway was clear. "Well?" said Harry. "Unless you boys have any further business in this compartment, I suggest you leave."

"Make us!" challenged one of Harold's friends.

Harry sighed. "Do I really need to get out my Prefect's badge? Move!" he said, raising his voice in a way that he knew would make the boys obey. Sure enough, the four boys began to sidle out.

"Come along, Gerald," mumbled Harold to his younger brother.

"No!" said Harry forcefully, as he watched the younger boy begin to follow his brother slowly. "He can stay if he wants to."

"What!" yelled Harold indignantly. "Now see here…"

"No, you see here, you ignorant little piece of shit!" snarled Harry in a voice that immediately silenced Harold. "What your little brother does and who he talks to is his business, not yours." He looked at Gerald, who had backed away slightly towards the boy in the corner, who, rather than look scared, looked impressed. _Why does he look familiar?_ Harry found himself wondering once again as he continued the verbal beatdown on Harold. "Y'know, you should be glad to have a little brother who isn't as bigoted and bloody stupid as you! At least he's willing to talk to people before deciding whether to harass them or not, whereas you and your little buddies just going around acting like pure-blood fanatics!"

"How dare you!" exclaimed Harold. "I'm not…"

"Then what do you call bullying Muggle-borns then?" interrupted Harry, now genuinely angry at the hypocrisy of the man he would one day be named after. "God, you make me sick. Get the fuck out of my sight!"

Harold looked at him incredulously. "You…" he growled as he took a swing at Harry.

_Poor little fool, _Harry thought as he ducked, grabbed Harold and kneed him in the stomach before throwing him out of the door of the compartment. "And stay out!" he yelled as he watched his grandfather stagger to his feet. For a second, Harry thought that Harold would come back for more but was proven wrong when Harold glared at him and retreated down the corridor, his pace considerably rapid.

Harry re-entered the compartment and closed the door behind him. "Hey there," said Harry. "You guys okay?"

Gerald stared at Harry, but managed to nod slightly.

"And you?" said Harry, addressing the other boy.

"I'm fine," said the boy quickly.

_I know that voice!_ Harry thought suddenly. _Oh Christ, please tell me I'm wrong…_

"Um… thank you," said Gerald as he sat down again. "That's twice you've saved me from being yelled at for something I've done wrong."

"The trolley was an accident," corrected Harry as he sat down opposite the two boys. "And I fail to see what you could have done to warrant being yelled at by your brother. As far as I can tell, all you were doing was sitting here, talking to someone you've just met when all of a sudden, your brother storms in here and starts bawling his head off. Hell, if anyone deserves to be yelled at for doing something wrong, it's your brother and his little friends."

"Oh," said Gerald, quietly. "Well, uh, thanks anyway."

"Any time, Gerald," replied Harry.

Gerald looked at Harry curiously "How did you know my name?"

"Your mother called you 'Gerald' on the platform and your brother called you the same thing just now, so, unless I've missed some very important clue, I think it's fairly safe to conclude that your name's Gerald, am I right?" explained Harry. Gerald nodded slightly, unsure what else to say. Harry decided to turn his attention to the young dark haired boy who had thus far said nothing. "And what would your name be?" he asked in what he hoped sounded like a friendly voice.

"Me?" stammered the boy, who had obviously not expected Harry to take an interest in him. "Um… my name's Tom."

_Bugger!_ thought Harry. _Why couldn't I have been wrong?_

XxXxXxXxXxX

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was wondering if this really was the Tom Marvolo Riddle who would one day become the monster that had destroyed everything he cared about. _He looks almost happy!_ Harry thought disbelievingly as he watched his arch-nemesis talking to his great uncle. _Come to think of it, so does Gerald. It's almost as if they were meant to be friends. I mean, I already know Tom's ambition and motives due to his background, but Gerald seems to have just as much ambition and seems a lot more calculating than his brother. But if he was like that in my reality, then surely he would've been a Slytherin, yet I was told that my whole family had been Gryffindors… Unless he only became a Gryffindor because he didn't want any trouble from his family…_

"So what house do you two think you'll end up in?" Harry suddenly asked when he saw an opening in the conversation.

"I… I don't really know," said young Tom. "I think I might end up being in Slytherin though, if the house you're in is to do with personality."

_I wonder if he already knows about him being Slytherin's heir,_ thought Harry as he heard this. _And why's he telling me this? The Tom Riddle I knew would've never revealed what he was thinking to anyone else._ "Ambition and Cunning, eh?" smirked Harry. "And a desire to prove yourself. Very interesting. Well, just as long as you don't let those characteristics lead you down the road to ultimate ruin, then they should serve you well."

"But Slytherins are supposed to be evil, aren't they?" asked Gerald.

"Some of them, maybe, but only because people treat them as such," replied Harry. "There's nothing wrong with any of the four houses. I mean, if any of them were 'evil', then Hogwarts would get rid of that house, right?"

"I… I suppose you're right," stammered Gerald. "But I have to go into Gryffindor though…"

"Why?" interrupted Harry.

"What?" said Gerald.

"Why do you 'have to' become a Gryffindor?" Harry elaborated.

"Because… because my whole family have been Gryffindors," stuttered Gerald. "And Mother and Father would…"

"I know what you're about to say," interrupted Harry again. "And saying that your parents want you to go into a certain house isn't a good reason. It's not for them or anyone else to decide. The only ones that can make that decision are you and the Sorting Hat."

"Sorting Hat?" said Gerald disbelievingly.

"You'll see when you get to Hogwarts," said Harry. "But if the hat wants to put you in a house other than Gryffindor, then let it, especially if you don't want to go into Gryffindor yourself."

"But…" Gerald spluttered.

"Look, if you're smart, then let it put you in Ravenclaw. If you're loyal and hard-working, then let it put you in Hufflepuff. And if, like Tom here, you have ambition, then by all means, let it put you in Slytherin," continued Harry. "The whole point of the different houses is that it fits in with your personality, not that of your parents or siblings."

"He's right," said Tom suddenly after a slight pause. "You shouldn't let people tell you what to do. Also, I doubt you really want to be in the same house as your brother if all Gryffindors are that bad."

"They're not," said Gerald. "But… I think you might be right. I probably don't belong in Gryffindor anyway."

"And if your family does make a fuss if you don't become a Gryffindor?" said Harry.

"Then that's their problem," grinned Gerald. "Meanwhile, I'll be blowing away everything Harold and Mary've accomplished, you'll see. I mean, I'm already a…"

He stopped suddenly as he realised what he was about to say.

"You've kept it a secret, haven't you?" said Harry, correctly guessing what Gerald had been about to say. "Your family doesn't know about your gift."

"Wh… what gift?" stammered Gerald. _How… how could he possibly know?_ he wondered frantically. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a Metamorphmagus, aren't you?" mumbled Harry.

Gerald sat there, gaping at Harry with his mouth open, trying to say something.

"What's a Metamorphma… thing?" asked Tom suddenly.

"_Someone who can change their appearance at will,_" hissed Harry in Parseltongue.

"_Really? That sounds like a great power to have,_" replied Tom, oblivious of the fact that he was also speaking Parseltongue. "_I wonder if it's possible to learn to do that._"

"You…" squeaked Gerald suddenly. "You're… you're speaking… Parseltongue!"

"What?" said Tom. "What's Parseltongue?"

"The ability to talk to snakes, answered Harry. "Very few can do it, though most people probably hide it as, like Slytherins, they're considered inherently evil."

"I'm not evil!" exclaimed Tom indignantly.

"Glad to hear it, replied Harry. _Maybe there is hope for this kid,_ Harry thought, trying not to picture a world untouched by the rage of 'Lord Voldemort'. Harry looked at Gerald who, though he looked positively terrified by the fact that he was sitting with a pair of Parselmouths, was still sitting in the compartment. _Good boy,_ thought Harry. _Just stick around and you and Tom might just get along just fine, especially if you both end up in Slytherin…_

Harry froze slightly as he considered what must have happened in his reality, and indeed any reality he had not appeared in. Harold and his friends would have come into the compartment, dragged Gerald off somewhere and harassed young Tom a little. Gerald would have probably ended up in Gryffindor and Tom would go on into Slytherin and grow up, never knowing of such things as 'friendship'. _Oh my god, I may have just nipped the whole Voldemort persona in the bud!_

XxXxXxXxXxX

Eventually the train began to slow as it approached Hogsmeade station. By now, the two boys had just returned from changing into their school robes, only to find the mysterious Prefect still sitting there, not wearing his school robes.

"Aren't you going to get changed?" asked Gerald.

Harry shook his head. "I won't be going to Hogwarts again for a while, he said. _Yeah, like fifty-odd years, _Harry mentally smirked as he said this.

"Oh," said Tom, who looked slightly disappointed.

"Don't worry about me," said Harry. "Besides, I'm looking forward to hearing about the infamous duo of Tom and Jerry if I ever stop by again."

"Tom and Jerry?" exclaimed Gerald.

"Well, it does go better than Tom and Gerald, don't you agree?" said Harry, realising that there was a good chance that neither of them had ever seen the Muggle cartoon – _It's probably not even out yet,_ he thought. "Besides, I think Jerry Potter sounds good, don't you think?"

"Jerry Potter?" mumbled Gerald.

"Tom and Jerry," mumbled Tom at the same time.

The three of them felt the train judder to a halt, announcing their arrival.

"You two'd better go and get your stuff. And good luck at the Sorting," said Harry.

The two boys nodded and went to leave, but Tom paused slightly and turned around again.

"By the way," he said, cursing himself for not asking earlier. "What's your name?"

Harry leaned back in his chair and smirked at the two boys.

"My name's Harry," he said. "Harry Potter."

Just then, right on cue, the light came and bathed Harry. The two boys watched dumbstruck as they watched the splinters of white light fly outwards as the pale blue light intensified. After a few seconds, the light climaxed with a bright flash and when the boys looked at the seat where 'Harry Potter' had been sitting, they saw that he was no longer there.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Let's see…

**Aerieth – **It's been mentioned in previous chapters that Harry can Apparate through wards, having found that there a loopholes that allow you to get through.

**Makokam – **The 'light show' is something I added. As far as I know, it's not in the sixth book.

**SmellyCat190 – **I agree. Dr Who is a good show and I did like Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor, though David Tennant does look promising from what I've seen.

**Concerning the 'blue aura' – **If you want to get an idea of what the 'aura' looks like, watch the last few Series 1 episodes of Quantum Leap ('Kamikaze Kid', 'Colour of Truth', 'Play it again, Seymour' etc). The sound is similar, but it doesn't necessarily sound the same every time (bit like the show really)

As I've said, I've already decided on The Lone Traveller's fate and am going to spend the next few days writing at least a rough draft of the Epilogue and maybe the last two chapters, so there may be a delay with this and SoTG. Apologies for that, but then again, I might be away for Hogmanay anyway.


	14. CHAPTER 13  The Locket

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if anyone wants to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read S'TarKan's "Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past".

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN – The Locket.**

Harry held out his hand in front of his own face and counted. "Eight seconds." he muttered once his vision had completely cleared. "It's getting better." He lowered his hand and looked around. Soon, he realised that he was in a vaguely familiar alleyway – the same one he had found himself in when he arrived in the second reality.

"Diagon Alley," Harry muttered as he started walking towards the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. _What could I possibly be here for this time?_ he wondered. _First time I was here, I was saving myself from a load of hero-worshippers and the second time I was helping McGonagall and my other self do his first year shopping. What could it possibly be now?_

He pushed open the door and entered the pub, first making sure that his scar was obscured by his hair. The pub was empty with the exception of Tom the barman.

"Good day, sir," he greeted Harry cheerily, not recognising him. "Can I get you anything?"

"Um… no, sorry, I've no money on me," answered Harry truthfully.

"Then I'm guessing you're wanting Diagon Alley," concluded Tom. "You know the combination?"

Harry nodded and walked through the pub into an alleyway with a dead-end. _Now, let's see,_ he thought as he took out his wand and looked at the brick wall. _It was this one. _He tapped one of the bricks with his wand. _This one._ He tapped another brick. _This one and this one. _He tapped another two bricks, then stood back. The bricks he had tapped then retreated into the wall slightly and the bricks began to move apart, revealing the entrance to Diagon Alley.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry started to walk around Diagon Alley, which seemed much quieter than he was used to. Then again, he had only really been there in the summer, when it was full of Hogwarts students buying their school supplies. This meant that, for once, Harry didn't have to force his way through any crowds. After a while, he passed a café and noticed a newspaper lying on top of one of the tables. Seeing that the table was empty and that the paper had probably been discarded, he picked it up and skimmed through the front page of the paper.

"November 2nd, 2002," he mumbled to himself. "Sixth year."

He double checked using the 'date' function on his watch and found that the paper was yesterday's. He put it back on the table and carried on walking. _Oh well, at least there's not much chance of bumping into anyone I know while I'm here. _he thought. _Plus, if anyone does spot my scar, then at least this reality's me will have an alibi, what with him being at Hogwarts and not being able to Apparate yet._

Ten minutes later, he was starting to wonder if he had made a wrong turn somewhere on the proverbial inter-dimensional highway. _What the hell could be so important here? _Harry wondered impatiently. He had been wandering around Diagon Alley for nearly half an hour now and had looked everywhere he could think of for anything that warranted his presence in that reality. He had scouted out Flourish & Blotts, Ollivander's Wands, Gamble & Japes Joke Shop, Eeyelops Owl Emporium, Madam Malikin's and every other shop he could think of, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

_What am I here to do?_ Harry asked himself, looking up, as if expecting some higher force to answer him. _I've looked everywhere…_ He stopped in mid-thought as he noticed the entrance to another alleyway. _No_, he realised._ I haven't._

Harry entered Diagon Alley's less reputable counterpart and sighed. _God, I hate Knockturn Alley, especially all those street vendors selling god-knows-what._ He glanced at one of the vendors, a particularly ugly looking witch. _Are those HUMAN tongues? _he asked himself incredulously as he realised the dried pink objects on her tray. Shuddering slightly, Harry continued deeper into Knockturn Alley, ignoring the strange looks his distinctly Muggle attire was receiving. _Bloody wizards_! _Always have to be so bloody prejudiced,_ he thought as he was reminded of his own grandfather in the reality before last.

The first place he checked out was Borgin & Burkes, as he knew that Malfoy was in contact with the shop's owner at this point. _Nothing, _he thought as he entered the shop and saw that it was empty.

"Can I help you, young sir?" asked the shop's owner.

"No, thank you," replied Harry. "I was just looking for someone. Sorry for bothering you." Before Mr Borgin could say anything in response, Harry had turned and left the shop.

Five minutes later, something finally caught Harry's attention.

"And right 'ere, we have this luvvly silver cup, unused to the best of my knowledge…" cried a familiar voice. As Harry approached the source of the voice, he noticed a large case full of several very valuable looking items near the feet of Mundungus Fletcher.

Suppressing the urge to go up to Fletcher and thump him for trying to sell what was, by rights, Harry's property after Sirius's death, Harry stood and watched as the thieving then-member of the Order of the Phoenix continued to call out to passers-by, hoping that someone would buy something. _Look at him, standing there, pretending he's a legitimate tradesman,_ seethed Harry. However, as he thought this, something occurred to him. _Maybe he hasn't sold that Locket yet… Yes, that must be it. If he hasn't sold it yet, maybe I can get my hands on it and give it to Dumbledore so he doesn't go after that fake one. If I do that, then he doesn't have to die, at least, not the way he did._

"Excuse me," Harry suddenly heard a voice say. "I don't suppose there would be any jewellery among that lot, would there? A locket perhaps?"

"Well, good sir, I 'ave just the thing," said Fletcher as Harry's eyes shot towards Fletcher's makeshift stall.

"No way," Harry mumbled disbelievingly as he saw Fletcher conversing with a hooded figure with dark robes. "Could it be?" he wondered, remembering his near-miss with a similar figure three realities ago and how he had later been told of another such figure's part in the exposure of Peter Pettigrew. "Well," shrugged Harry. "Only one way to find out…" He walked up to the nearby stall as Fletcher rummaged around in his case. "Excuse me," he said. "I know this may sound like a stupid question, but does the phrase 'alternate reality' mean anything to you?"

The figure whirled around at the sound of Harry's voice, though his hood stayed up, obscuring the figure's face. "Shit!" the figure exclaimed, before turning and running off.

"Hey, wait!" Harry called out, but as Harry went to pursue the robed figure, he noticed the figure glow blue for a few seconds, before disappearing with a fairly bright flash.

"Damn!" Harry cursed. _That's twice he's run away from me. But why?_ By now, everyone who had witnessed what had just happened was staring at him and where the cloaked figure had been in total shock. Everyone that is, except Mundungus Fletcher, who had just found a locket with an imprint of a serpent and was completely oblivious to what had just happened.

"Oi! What gives?" he exclaimed, staring at Harry. "What d'you think you're doin', scaring me customers away?" However, Fletcher's tone quickly changed when Harry turned and faced Fletcher. "What the… 'arry?" he spluttered as he recognised the figure in the leather jacket. "Um… listen 'arry… I, uh, know you're angry, but…"

"Shut the fuck up, you thieving piece of scum!" growled Harry, holding out his hand before him and sending Fletcher flying into the wall behind him.

"N-now, 'arry. B-be reasonable. I…" stammered Fletched, now slumped against the wall and very frightened.

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!" yelled Harry. Fletcher let out a terrified squeak, though what really scared him was the fury he could see in the young man's eyes. "Now," Harry snarled at the cowering thief. "You're going to return all the stuff you stole from Sirius's house right now, aren't you Mundungus?"

"Y-ye-yes… of… of course. A-anything y-you say, 'arry…" stuttered Fletcher.

"And you're going to give me that locket in your hand right now, aren't you?" added Harry, nodding the Horcrux in Fletcher's hand.

"Wh… this?" stammered Fletcher, glancing at the locket before holding his shaking hand out for Harry to take the locket. "H-here… T-take it."

Rather than reach over and grab it, Harry wandlessly summoned it, earning a few gasps from the still shocked onlookers, who had, in the last few minutes, witnessed a cloaked figure disappear in a flash of blue light after spotting the young man in the Muggle clothes and the annoying street-seller reduced to a gibbering wreck by the mere presence of that same young man. "Someone call an Auror," Harry heard someone mutter. Ignoring the onlookers, Harry looked briefly at the locket that had taken him so long to find in his reality, thanks to Fletcher selling it to someone, who then sold it to someone else and so on until Harry, Ron and Hermione finally found it. If only Regulus Black could have known the trouble his final act of defiance against Voldemort would cause. _Doesn't matter now, _thought Harry, closing his hand around the locket.

He looked down at the still quivering figure of Mundungus Fletcher and smirked. "Stay out of trouble, Mundungus," he said before Apparating away, leaving everyone in Knockturn Alley trying to figure out what had just happened as Mundungus Fletcher scrambled to his feet, closed the case-full of Black family heirlooms and left the Alley for Number 12 Grimmauld Place as fast as he could.

XxXxXxXxXxX

It was lunchtime at Hogwarts and the whole school was busy eating and chatting to their friends as a mysterious figure in a leather jacket and blue jeans entered the Great Hall.

As the figure in the Muggle clothes walked towards the Staff table, there were several gasps as several students caught a glimpse of the scar on the stranger's forehead.

"Is that…?"

"No, can't be…"

"But Harry Potter's already sitting over there…"

"Where's 'e going?"

"What's that in his hand?"

"Maybe he's Potter's long-lost twin…"

"Maybe he's an impostor sent by You-Know-Who…"

"Looks like Harry's just as confused as we are…"

"And look! So're the teachers…"

"Blimey! I never thought I'd ever see Dumbledore look shocked!"

Finally, the stranger that looked like a lot like Harry Potter reached the Staff table and stood before Dumbledore, who looked at the stranger with a look of extreme suspicion. Everyone had their hands on their wands as the stranger put the object in his hand on the table in front of Dumbledore.

"The one in the cave is a fake," said the stranger quietly to an immensely surprised Dumbledore. The stranger then walked towards Snape. "And Draco's task is to assassinate Dumbledore," he said in an equally quiet voice so that only Snape could hear.

The school watched in wonder as the mysterious stranger said a few words to both the Headmaster and the Potions Master before he turned and started walking back towards the entrance. It was only when the stranger reached the doors that the Headmaster finally found his voice.

"Who are you?" he called out.

The stranger paused and turned around. "I've been called many things in my lifetime," he said in a voice that everyone could hear. "The Lone Traveller is one of them."

The Great Hall exploded with shocked gasps and murmuring as the stranger turned and took another few steps before a pale blue light appeared around him. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the stranger as white sparks of light shot outwards, before a bright flash heralded the departure of The Lone Traveller from their world.

**-**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

**dead feather – **The whole point of this is that Harry's plan to go back and change history went wrong and now he's trapped in the situation he's in. He has no control when and where he goes, which, alongside the fact that the aura is blue, is one of the central parts of Quantum Leap that influence this story.

**Ugly Duckling – **Yes, you are correct. I am a Red Dwarf fan and yes, I am planning at least one 'Harry isn't quite Harry' reality in the near future.

**Concerning the Dates I use – **I use the publishing date of The Philosipher's Stone (1997) as a reference point as far as dates are concerned. First year, with my system, is from Summer 1997 to Summer 1998, and so on. I know most people use a '1991First year/1980Harry born chronology', but I prefer to use the first book's publishing date, mainly to bring the stories a bit closer to the present.


	15. CHAPTER 14  Lover's Spat

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if anyone wants to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read S'TarKan's "Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past".

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN – Lover's spat.**

Harry sat there on the park bench, glowering at a group of children as they played, all of them waving a balloon on a string each. Suddenly, all the balloons burst simultaneously, but Harry found that the random act of childish cruelty didn't make him feel any better.

_Why me?_ he wondered irritably. _Of all the people that have ever existed in every single reality, why did I have to become the inter-dimensional problem solver? I mean, haven't I been through enough in my own reality? Isn't living the life I had and having to fight and defeat one on the most powerful Dark Lords of all time enough? _He watched as the disappointed children resumed playing, the loss of their balloons soon forgotten. _Look at them. Not a care in the world. But me? I get to roam reality for god knows how long. I mean, how long am I gonna have to do this? I've already saved the lives of an entire wedding, at least one Quirrell, possibly a Dumbledore and Snape, countless people who would have died in a reality where, hopefully, Voldemort won't exist now and a couple of versions of myself. Plus, I've hopefully improved things for those other Harry Potters and their friends and, where applicable, family. Surely that's enough._

Just then, he noticed a police car go past, no doubt on its way to Privet Drive. A quick glance confirmed this as, sitting in the back, looking as if he were being led to his own execution, was Dudley Dursley. _Nothing worse than being grassed on and caught red-handed vandalising something, eh Dudders?_ he thought mockingly, trying not to laugh out loud as he pictured a scene consisting of Aunt Petunia denying any allegations of her precious son doing anything wrong and Uncle Vernon yelling at Dudley in the same way he had yelled at Harry for all those years he had had to put up with them. _I just hope this reality's Harry doesn't laugh too loud,_ he thought as the police car disappeared from view. _Oh well, any second now… _thought Harry, waiting for the light to take him to wherever it would take him next.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Harry felt the aura pulsing through him as a bright mixture of blue and white light covered his eyes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Though Harry's couldn't see, he most certainly felt himself being submerged under the water.

"What the…" he tried to splutter, but the words merely came out as bubbles. Realising that he was underwater, Harry began thrashing in the water, his head emerging above the surface. Though he didn't know exactly where he was, he most certainly knew what he was in.

"Of all the…" he yelled at no-one in particular. "What in the bloody hell am I doing in the middle of a sodding lake!?! Oh great! Just fucking great! Wonderful! Absolutely bloody marvellous! A dip in a freezing cold lake – just what I needed!" He looked up slightly. "Thanks a fucking lot!" he added.

As Harry floated there in the middle of the lake, treading water to keep himself afloat, something occurred to him. _Of course,_ he thought. _This whole thing is punishment. Fate is punishing me for botching up my reality so badly._ Harry shook his head slightly, ignoring his chattering teeth. _What the hell am I on about? Fate's punishment? Bloody hell, Harry. you're supposed to be a legendary 'Lone Traveller', not a delusional nutter…_

Suddenly, Harry caught a glimpse of a very familiar creature – a very large squid. A giant squid, in fact. Turning, Harry immediately realised precisely which lake he was in when he saw Hogwarts in the near distance. _Bloody hell, that's the second time I've appeared here. Third time I've been here too, not counting my reality. Only, this is the only time I've taken an unscheduled dip in the lake. _Despite his shivering, he let out a sigh. _Why me? _he wondered as he Apparated out of the lake and towards the castle, despite the wards.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Oi, Weasley!" yelled a voice.

The tall, freckled red-head turned and saw a familiar figure walking towards him. "What d'you want, Dobson?" he asked irritably.

"Nothing," replied the fair-haired boy. "I was just told t' tell you that Morton's called for a practice on Saturday, alright?"

"Saturday? But…" stammered the red-head, but by then Dobson was already walking away. _Oh Merlin,_ he thought. _How the hell'm I gonna tell 'Dora?_

Sighing heavily, resigned to the fact that he would have to tell his girlfriend the bad news soon. _Guess I'd better get it over with,_ he thought as he headed for the entrance to the castle.

A few seconds after the boy disappeared through the main doors, a figure in a leather jacket appeared near the entrance, looking very displeased, not to mention soaking wet. The figure waved a hand over himself and was instantly dry. After checking to see that his wand and, more importantly, the picture of himself and Ginny were both undamaged, Harry Disillusioned himself and entered the castle.

For a few minutes, Harry wandered along the corridors, which were completely devoid of anyone. _C'mon,_ Harry thought impatiently, still annoyed at his rather undignified arrival. _Someone give me a clue when I am. Am I gonna bump into Riddle or my grandfather again? A first year version of me? Maybe a version of me that isn't me? C'mon, someone, anyone, just give me a general idea…_

"'Dora!" he heard someone call out. _That'll do, _mused Harry. Quickening his pace, Harry made his way toward the familiar sounding voice and rounded a corner where, standing at the bottom of a staircase, was a girl with pink hair and a familiar looking red-haired boy. What really took Harry by surprise, however, was what they were doing.

"Hey," mumbled the girl when the two broke off the kiss. "Not here. If someone sees us…"

"Does it matter?" her boyfriend said quietly.

_Oh my god!_ thought Harry. _Tonks? Charlie? An Item? Oh boy…_

The girl, who Harry was certain was Nymphadora Tonks, blushed slightly. "I suppose…" she whispered. "But isn't this what Madam Puddifoot's is for?" she smiled mischievously.

"Um, yeah, about that…" began Charlie Weasley uncertainly. The smile on Tonks's face faded. "Well, you see… I've just been told that I have Quidditch practice on Saturday…" Tonks immediately turned away from him when he said this. "Look, I'm sorry 'Dora, but…"

"But Quidditch is more important than me," mumbled Tonks.

"What? No!" exclaimed Charlie. "It's nowhere near as important as you!"

"So why does everything for you revolve around Quidditch?" snapped Tonks. "Every time we make plans, suddenly, some moron calls a Quidditch practice and you just throw our plans out of the window!"

"'Dora…"

"Don't you 'Dora' me, Charlie Weasley!" shouted Tonks. "Just for once, I want to spend some time with you without having to cancel because of your bloody Quidditch!" By now, tears were starting to well in her eyes.

"I'm sorry…"

"You're always sorry, Charlie!" sobbed Tonks. "Every bloody time!" With that, she turned and stormed up the staircase.

"'Dora, wait!" Charlie called out desperately but Tonks ignored him. "Damnit!" he muttered, punching the wall in anger. "Why me?" he sighed as he walked up the same staircase.

_Aw, poor Charlie,_ thought Harry sarcastically. _Christ, no wonder Tonks's upset. C'mon, Charlie, if you love her, then just go and tell that Quidditch captain to fuck off so you can go to Hogsmeade with her._ He began to follow the second oldest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley up the staircase, wondering what he should do – should he introduce himself and give out advice, or wait for a few minutes and see what came up? Deciding on the latter option, Harry followed Charlie Weasley to the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey there, Charlie," Harry heard a voice greet as he slipped into the common room behind Charlie before the portrait hole closed. "You okay?"

"Sod off, Dave," sighed Charlie. "I'm not in the mood."

"Aye, I can see why," said another boy. "What wi' the look on Tonks's face when she came in, I'm no' surprised ye're no' happy."

"I said sod off!" snapped Charlie as he slumped onto one of the armchairs.

"I'm sure whatever it is…" added the Scots boy.

"Calum!" interrupted Charlie.

"Alright, alright," said Dave quickly. "C'mon, Cal', we'd better leave him be."

Once the two boys went up to their dorm, Charlie buried his face in his hands and sighed. "Why me?" he muttered again.

_If he says that one more time, I swear I'll…_ Harry thought irritably. _God, now I know which brother Ron took after. _He paused slightly. _Ah, so this is why Charlie and Tonks were so awkward whenever they met… Oh buggeration, don't tell me I'm here to keep them together. What the hell am I? An inter-dimensional matchmaker? Oh well, I suppose I should do something…_

"Y'know, sitting there muttering to yourself isn't going to help," Harry said quietly.

"I said…" exclaimed Charlie, turning his head only to find that no-one was there. "What the…" He glanced around nervously, wondering if someone was trying to play some kind of joke on him. For example, his brothers, Fred & George, were already notorious tricksters despite only being first years. Seeing nothing, however, he went to sit down again.

"Y'know what I reckon you should do, Charlie?" continued a still Disillusioned Harry, making Charlie freeze and whirl around. "I reckon you should go and tell whoever your Quidditch captain is to take his Quidditch practice and shove it up his arse."

"What… who…" spluttered Charlie, still trying to figure out where the voice was coming from, as well as whose voice it was. "Who the hell are you?"

"Just a passing traveller," smirked the unseen voice of Harry. "Not that that's particularly important right now, right Charlie?"

"Traveller?" Charlie mumbled. "No way…"

"Like I said," interrupted Harry. "It's not important."

"But…"

"Do you love her?" Harry asked suddenly.

Charlie frowned at the seemingly empty common room. "What?"

"Tonks," elaborated Harry. "You do love her, right?"

"What?" spluttered Charlie. "Of course I bloody love her!"

"Then what were you doing sitting around feeling sorry for yourself?" Harry asked bluntly. "Whether you realise it or not, she's probably up in her dorm, crying her eyes out because she thinks you care more about being Gryffindor's star Seeker than about her."

"But I don't!" yelled Charlie angrily. "I love her…"

"Then prove it," said Harry. "Go and tell your girlfriend that you'll be going to Hogsmeade with her this weekend."

Charlie stood there for a few seconds considering what had just been said. "I have a better idea," he mumbled before walking towards the portrait hole. "Keep an eye on 'Dora for a few minutes, okay?" he said before leaving the common room.

_Oh my god,_ thought Harry as he saw Charlie's intentions via Legilimency. _He really does love her!_ He looked towards the stairs to the girl's dorms. _Oh well, I suppose I'd better go and see how Tonks is doing…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Y'know, I don't know why you put up with him, Tonks," Harry heard someone say as he made his way up the staircase, overpowering the 'anti-boy' charms as he went.

"Yeah," agreed another voice. "I mean, calling off a date just so he can go to Quidditch practice? That's just so mean."

Mean? thought Harry as he entered the dorm quietly. Not the word any of my generation would have used, but then again, I'm probably not due to start at Hogwarts for another couple of years. He stood just beside the door and watched the two girls trying to console Tonks, whose hair, Harry noticed, was a dull brown colour. Depression inhibits metamorphic capability, Harry thought, remembering that Tonks's hair always returned to its natural colour whenever she was depressed or upset about something. 

"I just wish he wouldn't put me to one side every time he had Quidditch practice," mumbled Tonks. "It's like I'm just there to help him pass the time."

"I'm sure it's not like that. He's just being a prat, that's all," said one of the girls. _Ah, now that sounds more familiar,_ mused Harry.

"Michelle's right," agreed the other girl. "Charlie does love you. He's just being an insensitive prat. I mean, we all know what boys are like, especially when it comes to sports…"

Harry watched as Tonks's roommates denounced Charlie as being a 'typical insensitive boy' until a surprised yell told him that someone had just tried to come up the staircase, only for the stairs to become a rather slippery slide. Having ended up sprawled over the floor at the bottom of the stairs, the boy in question tried a different tactic.

"Hey, uh, 'Dora!" called the boy, who Harry correctly guessed to be Charlie. "I don't suppose you'd mind coming down here a second would you?"

"You gonna go down?" asked Michelle after a slight pause.

Tonks sighed and nodded as she left the dorm, closely followed by a still invisible Harry.

When Tonks got to the bottom of the stairs, she found that the only person in the common room was Charlie Weasley. He did this every time – he'd get her to come down, then apologise profusely and promise to make it up to her. _Well not this time,_ thought Tonks angrily. _I don't care how many times he says 'sorry', none of it ever means anything. It's always the same and there's no way this time's gonna be any different._

But this time, Nymphadora Tonks was wrong.

"You still up for Hogsmeade on Saturday?" he asked, taking her completely by surprise.

"What? But…" she stammered. "How… I thought you had Quidditch practice…"

"Not anymore," interrupted Charlie.

"How come?" asked Tonks.

"Well, I figured that there was little point in going to the practice if I'm not on the team," answered Charlie.

"What?" exclaimed Tonks. "You're… you…"

"I quit the team," said Charlie calmly. "As of today, I am no longer Gryffindor Seeker."

"You quit the team?" spluttered Tonks. "Why?"

"Because you're more important," answered Charlie.

Tonks stared at him incredulously, not sure whether to believe that Charlie Weasley had really given up his position on the Quidditch team just for her.

"So…" Charlie continued. "You still want to come with me to Hogsmeade?"

"Of course I do!" exclaimed Tonks as she hugged Charlie.

Any doubts or regrets that Charlie had had about quitting the Quiditch team disappeared in that moment. He was about to say something else when she kissed him. _I guess I'm forgiven,_ thought Charlie as the two teens stood in each other's embrace in the middle of the common room. As he went to kiss her again, Charlie noticed that Tonks's hair was now pink again, just like she normally had it.

_And to think, I was ready to dump him just a few minutes ago, _Tonks marvelled, thankful that she had someone that was willing to give up one of their favourite pastimes to be with her. _What was I thinking?_ she thought as she gazed into Charlie's warm brown eyes.

Normally, one of them would have said "I love you" during these kind of moments, but there was no need. Though they would both say it many times throughout the rest of their lives, they both knew it would be unnecessary. They loved each other – that was all there was to it. Nothing else mattered at that moment, not even the pulsing blue light that filled the common room or the sound that vaguely resembled the singing of a Phoenix…

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

**Concerning my dating system – **Thanks for the information on Canon dating, but I will be sticking to the 'First Book 1997' system for this and probably SoTG too as I have noticed that some fics have various Harry Potter events taking place today, so moving the timeline forward a few years shouldn't be that big a deal.

**Emerald Dragon – **The Lone Traveller myth is my creation.

**Makokam – **From what I could tell, Snape didn't know what Draco's mission was, hence the frustration when he couldn't use Legilimency to find out. At least, I think that's how it was in the 6th book. I could be wrong though.

After the next chapter, there's hopefully gonna be a multi-chapter reality, but until I get the next SoTG chapter done, this is all you're getting…


	16. CHAPTER 15  Rose

**SUMMARY**

After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**S'TarKan** – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if anyone wants to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read S'TarKan's "Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past".

**The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS** – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN – Rose.**

"Go away, Dudley!" the young red-head yelled.

The girl's porky cousin and his friends just laughed. "What're you gonna do, Rose? Run and tell teacher like a little sneak?" Dudley taunted, earning several laughs from his friends.

"Just leave me alone, meanies!" the girl retorted.

"You can't make us!" said Piers Polkiss. "You're just a girl."

"Yeah," chorused Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon.

"What is going on here?" an angry voice suddenly asked.

"Nothing, Miss Crawford," the five boys responded.

The young teacher's eyes narrowed slightly. Taking the subtle hint, the five boys apologised to the girl and left, snickering to themselves as they went. However, Miss Anne Crawford didn't hear them as she turned her attention to a very upset looking Rose Potter.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"After we took you in and give you a roof over your head, this is how you repay us?" 

_Harry stood there, hoping his aunt and uncle would stop yelling at him soon and just send him to his cupboard. He had just tried to run away, but had been caught and returned to the Dursleys by two strange looking men who seemed to know who he was. They had taken him back, no matter how hard he tried to get away from them or tell them not to take him back to them – they didn't listen. Now he was back at Number 4 Privet Drive being told how ungrateful he had been for trying to run away 'after everything they had done for him'. Every time someone said this, he wanted to just yell at them and give them a telling off, instead of it being the other way around as always. But he couldn't – that would have been as close to suicide as he could get without actually dying._

_It just wasn't fair._

_Five minutes later, Harry was alone in the dark cupboard, his hand clutched against his throbbing cheek, thinking about how much he hated the Dursleys. For as long as he could remember, his aunt, uncle and cousin had all been nasty to him at every possible opportunity. Also, everyone at school avoided him because they knew that Dudley and his friends didn't like him. Even the teachers regarded him with some suspicion because of what they had been told about his parents, though Harry didn't know this. All he knew was that he had been looking forward to starting school and being away from Number 4 for at least a few hours a day, but once he got to school, he had found that no one wanted to be his friend. No one would talk to him unless they absolutely had to, and even then, they kept their words to a minimum. Also, between Dudley's gang and everyone else blaming him for everything, Harry often found himself in the Headmistress's office, always ending up with some punishment for something he hadn't even done. Even his teacher, Miss Crawford, always treated him with a degree of suspicion. _

_It just wasn't fair._

_Harry's stomach growled slightly. He was hungry, but he knew he would have to wait until everyone had gone to bed before going to get something to eat. "It's not fair." He mumbled to himself. Dudley always got whatever he wanted but Harry never got anything. One of Dudley's snacks was usually more than Harry got for a whole meal. Dudley was a stupid, mean bully yet he got nothing but praise while anything Harry did was met with pure scorn. No matter what he did, he would always receive insults in return. Then there was the stuff that he didn't do. Anything remotely strange or unusual that happened was always blamed on him, even though he couldn't possibly have anything to do with it. _

_It just wasn't fair._

_Right now, all Harry wanted to do was cry. He hated everything. The Dursleys, school, his classmates, the teachers, the cupboard he was in, his life, everything. But he wouldn't cry, ever. No matter what they anyone did to him, he would allow himself to cry, ever. However, young Harry knew that that was a promise he might not be able to keep. Not that it mattered anyway – no one would care anyway…_

_It just wasn't fair._

_Sometimes his uncle would tell him to be grateful that they hadn't dumped him in an orphanage. Whenever his uncle said this, Harry always found himself wondering why they didn't do just that – they didn't want him, so why didn't they just get rid of him? Why did they keep him if they hated him so much? Surely they would prefer it if he just wasn't around anymore…_

_Harry Potter, aged five and a quarter, hated his life – it just wasn't fair._

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry woke with a start when he heard a train roar past. Looking around, he saw that he was sitting against a tree just over the fence from a railway line – an electric railway line.

"Where the hell am I now?" Harry wondered out loud as he got to his feet. By now, his 'destinations' were becoming more unpredictable and varied – in the last reality, he had ended up meeting another young Tom Riddle near Saint Mary's Orphanage in London and the reality before he had come across Remus Lupin before Fenrir Greyback could. Each time, Harry had spent a while trying to figure out where he was. This time, it wasn't quite so hard as, after ten minutes of walking along the railway line and onto the nearest road, he had come across a heavily vandalised street sign.

"Orchard Road Avenue?" mumbled Harry. Glancing up slightly, he saw the treetops of the orchard sticking out over the wall, which didn't seem as tall as it had when he was younger…

XxXxXxXxXxX

There was a fairly loud squelching sound as Rose Potter fell flat in the mud. Her cousin and his friends all stood ther laughing at the red-haired girl as she struggled to get back to her feet, only to slip in the mud again.

"Leave her alone!" yelled another girl who had seen this.

"What're you gonna do, Natalie?" taunted Piers. "We're not in school now so you can't tell Miss Crawford. And you can't tell us to do anything either, so there!"

"I'll tell the Police," retorted Natalie. "Then they'll put you in prison with all the other bad people!"

"They can't put kids in jail, stupid!" was the reply from Dudley. "They won't do anything to help the ginger freak anyway."

"Yeah, so go away," added Dennis, pushing the girl away as he said this. Unfortunately, the girl fell over, her hand landing on the broken glass on the pavement. There was an awkward pause as Natalie began crying, clutching a nasty cut on the palm of her hand. Before the five boys could do anything, Natalie was up and running as fast as she could back to her house. The boys were so badly shaken by what Dennis had inadvertently done that they didn't notice Rose get up and run in the opposite direction, tears streaming down her face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Having finished his third apple and pocketed another two, Harry landed back on the other side of the orchard wall. There was something very satisfying about scrumping from the Orchard Road Avenue orchard without having to worry about being locked in the cupboard under the stairs without dinner, though that usually happened with the Dursleys anyway, whether they found out or not.

_Well, I suppose I'd better get going, _thought Harry as he began walking through the familiar streets of Little Whinging. Though he had been here two or three times already since his 'journey' had begun, Harry still couldn't quite believe how pristine and undamaged everything was compared to when he had left his own reality. Once again, he found himself hoping that this reality wouldn't turn out like his – apart from the Dursleys of course. In his reality, despite everything they had put him through, he had still tried to get them away from Privet Drive, to a safehouse where they would be safe from any Death-Eater attacks, but they wouldn't listen. All of his letters were ignored and he only ever got as far as 'hello' on the phone before his uncle hung up. Eventually, Harry gave up trying to help his last remaining relatives and left them to their fates, which came soon enough. On the 17th of May 2006, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were killed in a Death-Eater attack on Little Whinging. Dudley died just over two months later in a similar attack in a place in Kent called Grooseham, where he had moved into a flat two weeks before the attack on Little Whinging. Harry had been informed of their deaths within hours of the incidents, Dudley's death coming just three days before his twentieth birthday.

Harry didn't attend the funerals.

After ten minutes of walking, he heard crying from a nearby bus stop. Deciding to investigate, Harry moved closer to the bus stop and saw a little girl of no more than five or six years old huddled in the corner, covered in mud and crying. For a second, the red-haired girl reminded Harry of Ginny. Harry shook his head slightly, driving the comparison to the back of his mind and entered the bus shelter.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a voice that he hoped was calm and unintimidating.

The girl looked up, her brown eyes full of tears. _Just like Gi… shut up, Harry! Concentrate on the matter at hand._ She tried to move further backwards, but found she couldn't.

"It's okay," said Harry, crouching down to her level. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"P-promise?" the girl stammered nervously.

Harry smiled and nodded. "I promise."

The girl looked at him uncertainly. Her cousin had broken many promises, but this long- haired stranger seemed okay. Still, he was a stranger…

"Miss Crawford told us not to talk to strangers," she said hesitantly.

_Miss Crawford? Oh Christ, don't tell me she's just had the 'Stranger Danger' lesson, _thought Harry, trying not to smirk at the memory of Dudley making a fool of himself all those years ago. "Well, I suppose she has a point – they don't really come much stranger than me," he quipped, getting a slight giggle in response. "And if your teacher's Miss Crawford, then I'm guessing you're about five, right?"

"Five and a quarter," corrected the girl.

_Ah, to be young and so precise about your age, _thought Harry. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Rose," the girl said in a voice no louder than a whisper.

_Rose? _thought Harry. _I don't remember any Roses around here, especially since I should be in school around about now seeing as Miss Crawford didn't become Mrs Danielson until I was ten… _"My name's Daniel Hall," replied Harry. "Do you live around here?"

"I'm not going back," mumbled Rose. "You can't make me."

Harry blinked slightly when she said this – that was exactly what he had said the first time he had tried to run away from the Dursleys. _Could it possibly be…_ "Who are you talking about?"

"My-my aunt and uncle…" stammered Rose. "They keep letting Dudley be mean to me even though I've done nothing to him…"

_Oh my god! _thought Harry as he listened to the girl as a fresh batch of tears began to well in her eyes. _Rose Potter? Hold on, if she's this reality's equivalent of me, then where's… _He stopped as he caught a glimpse of something just above one of her ears. Though it was partially obscured by her hair and was at a different angle, there was no mistaking the scar that adorned Harry's forehead. Somehow, however, Rose hadn't noticed his yet.

"… I mean, it wouldn't be so horrible if Dudley would just leave me alone, but even when Aunt Petunia tells him to stop it, he doesn't…"

_What? _Harry exclaimed mentally. _Aunt Petunia telling Dudley to stop bullying a Potter? Why on earth would…_

"… and then Dennis pushed Natalie and she cut her hand on some glass and…"

_Natalie? Natalie Bedford? But she always avoided me. They all did. What's so different about Rose? Is it because she's a girl? What about all that bullshit the Dursleys always told everyone about my parents…_ He stopped in mid-thought and looked at the five and a quarter year old for a few seconds. _Dad's eyes, _thought Harry when he saw her brown eyes again. _I don't believe it – 'spitting image of her mother, but has her father's eyes'. _Harry tried not to laugh. All those times everyone had told him he was so much like his father, but had his mother's eyes, yet here was a Potter who was the other way around. Then it hit him. _She probably reminds Aunt Petunia of Mum…_

"What about your aunt and uncle? How do they treat you?" Harry asked once Rose had finished her very fast and pauseless description of Dudley and his gang's behaviour.

"Uncle Vernon doesn't like me," mumbled Rose. "He calls me a freak when he thinks I can't hear him. That's why Dudley started calling me 'ginger freak'."

"At least he doesn't say it to your face," replied Harry. "I was forced to live with my aunt and uncle after my parents were murdered and neither liked me. My uncle called me 'freak' too. My aunt wasn't much better and this 'Dudley' sounds a lot like my cousin. He used to go around bullying people, especially me, all the time and not only did his parents not do anything about it, but they encouraged it."

By this time, Rose was no longer crying. Instead, she sat and listened, wide-eyed as Harry told her of his life with his aunt and uncle. He told her of how he used to get hardly any food, of how he was forced to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs despite there being a spare bedroom, of how he was constantly given chores while his cousin never had to do a thin, of how he was ostracised (though she wasn't entirely sure what that word meant until Harry elaborated for her) at school and of how he was always lived in fear of being punished for things that had nothing to do with him.

As she watched Daniel telling her of his relatives, she couldn't help but wonder how he managed to cope. _He looks so sad, even when he smiles, _she thought. She was also wondering about that strange scar at the top of his forehead, mostly hidden by his long hair. _Did they do that to him too?_ However, Rose didn't ask about it – after all, it would have been very rude and he was being so nice to her, listening to her and talking to her about his own experiences. By the time Daniel had finished speaking, she could tell she was crying again. How could anyone be so cruel to such a nice person? Her cousin may have been making her life miserable and her uncle may not like her for some reason, but at least Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't starve her or lock her in a cupboard like the one under the stairs…

All of a sudden, she hugged Harry. Though this took him by surprise, he realised why she was doing it. "Don't worry about it," he said as he returned the hug. "We should get you home, it's starting to get dark. Wouldn't want you getting in trouble now, would we?"

Rose nodded silently, no doubt worried about what everyone would say once they found out she'd tried to run away. "C'mon, I'll give you a piggy-back ride," she heard 'Daniel' say. Rose looked up with surprise. A piggy-back ride? She'd seen some of her friends get piggy-back rides before but had never got one herself.

Harry knew what she was thinking as she got on his back – though it didn't sound like she was treated as badly as he had been, he knew that she'd probably never received a piggy-back ride, and would probably never receive another once he left this reality – but at least she would get at least one.

As he walked along the pavement with the little girl clinging to his shoulders, he marvelled slightly at how light she was. Was it because of malnutrition or were all five year olds this light? He hoped it was the latter as he began to cut across the park when he was stopped by an urgent voice.

"Stop! Stay where you are!"

Harry stopped moving and turned around slowly. Facing him, wands drawn, were the same two wizards that had returned him to the Dursleys the first time he had tried to run away

"Who are you, and where are you taking her?" one of them barked.

Harry glowered at the two. "I'm taking her home," he growled irritably. "Unless you want to take her somewhere else, which I already know isn't the case."

The two wizards kept their wands trained on Harry, who wondered why Rose wasn't reacting to all this. Glancing over his shoulder, he realised that the little girl had fallen asleep. _Good, _thought Harry. _At least this way you'll hopefully never have to meet these two boneheads. _He had never really forgiven the two men before him for what the Dursleys had put him through after being returned to them and the current situation wasn't doing much to ease any ill-feeling he had towards them

"Who are…" one of them began loudly.

"Will you be quiet!" Harry hissed. "Look, she's had a really rough day and she deserves a bit of rest, okay?" The men looked at him curiously, probably trying to figure out whether he was a threat to the Girl-Who-Lived or not. "Look," Harry continued. "If Dumbledore asks, just tell him that a passing traveller found young Rose and took her home, okay?"

The two men gaped at him incredulously, one of them almost dropping his wand before the two Apparated away immediately. _Hopefully they're just going to tell Dumbledore rather than calling for reinforcements, _thought Harry as he quickened his pace. _I just wish I knew how everyone seems to know about me just from 'passing traveller'._ He stopped suddenly. _Bloody hell, Harry, are you a wizard or not?_

Checking first to make sure that Rose was still asleep, Harry Apparated from the park to Privet Drive.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry walked up the garden path, Rose still asleep on his back, and flicked his finger slightly at the doorbell. He heard it ring before hearing someone coming very quickly. The door opened to reveal a very worried looking Petunia Dursley.

"Mind if I come in?" Harry asked, trying to push all his memories of Number 4 Privet Drive to the back of his mind.

Petunia was about to say something when she saw the sleeping girl's head resting on the stranger's shoulder. "C-come in," she managed to stutter, her eyes fixed on Rose.

Harry stepped inside the house. "Where's her bedroom?" he asked, hoping that Petunia wouldn't hesitate before telling him.

"Upstairs," answered Petunia with a quiet voice, one without the slightest hint of hesitation. "First on the right."

_Thank god, _Harry thought to himself as he nodded and made his way upstairs. He entered the smallest bedroom of the four-bedroom house and paused slightly – it was definitely her room and not Dudley's second bedroom for all the stuff he couldn't fit in his main bedroom. He eased Rose down onto her bed, knocking a Teddy Bear off the bed as he did so. _Definitely a girl's bedroom, _mused Harry, noting the My Little Pony bedcovers and the soft pink wallpaper that adorned the walls. It was an interesting contrast to the rather plain room Harry had once slept in every summer while at Hogwarts.

Harry took one last look at his female equivalent before going back downstairs, where he found himself being hugged by his Aunt Petunia – something that had never happened in his reality.

"Thank you," Petunia sobbed as she hugged Harry. "I was so worried something had happened to her…"

"It's okay," replied Harry. "Don't worry about it."

Petunia let go and composed herself. "I'm sorry, I just… I'm just worried, that's all. First we get a letter from the school about Dudley, then Rose goes missing, then Dudley and his friends get taken to the Police station…"

"Yes, I had a feeling you might say something like that," said Harry, though he was really very surprised at the idea of Dudley being in major trouble, simply because it hadn't happened much in his reality. "Rose mentioned something about her friend cutting her hand on some glass because of Dennis Mitchell," Harry elaborated.

"Oh," was all that Petunia said in response.

"I should probably go now," said Harry.

"Wait!" exclaimed Petunia, holding her hand out to stop him. "Tell me what happened. Please. I just need to know…"

"I found her crying at the bus stop across the road from Marigold Drive," explained Harry. "We talked and I gave her a piggy-back ride back. She fell asleep on the way, just before a couple of wizards showed up and tried to interrogate me. I mean, seriously, who on earth is stupid enough to threaten a person carrying a child on his back?"

"W-wizards?" squeaked Petunia. "They… they didn't hurt her…"

"No. They'd just come to bring her home, but I beat them to it," interrupted Harry.

"And you? You're a wizard?" said Petunia, he words sounding more like a genuine question than the accusation Harry expected. "But… who are you? I don't think we've ever met you before, have we?"

_Hold on… She's just realised I must be a wizard and yet she hasn't shrieked or tried to throw me out of the house? _thought Harry incredulously. _This reality is different. _"Well, I told her my name's Daniel, so if she asks, you'll know who she's talking about."

"What do you mean you 'told her' your name was Daniel?" Petunia asked suspiciously. However, she froze as she noticed two things about 'Daniel'. First, there was the scar shaped like a lightning bolt, just like Rose's scar, except this one was on the top of his forehead, just below his hairline. Petunia knew exactly how her niece had got the scar above her ear, and she knew that it was unique. Then there was his eyes.

They were green – just like her little sister's.

Harry smirked slightly when he noticed the look on Petunia Dursley's face. "My name's Harry Potter," he said. "But I don't exist in this reality. Rose does. Tell Dumbledore that if he or anyone else comes here tonight." He turned and walked towards the door before pausing for a second and facing a still shocked Petunia. "Take care of her Aunt Petunia. And take care of yourself too," were his final words before stepping out the door, not seeing his aunt's silent nod.

XxXxXxXxXxX

As Harry rounded the corner and left Privet Drive, his thoughts continued to dwell on the little girl he had just left behind in the house in which he had suffered so much, yet was nowhere near as bad for her. Harry Potter, the spitting image of his father but with his mother's eyes, had been treated like something on the same level as scum, whereas Rose Potter, the spitting image of her mother but with her father's eyes, was at least treated like a human being in that house. For some reason, Rose Potter was worthy of such treatment and Harry Potter wasn't.

It just wasn't fair.

Since his 'journey' had begun, he had found out that his parents didn't have to die for him to become the Boy-Who-Lived. Then he found out that, in that reality at least, his grandfather may have played a part in the creation of the persona of Lord Voldemort. Now, he had just seen an Aunt Petunia that didn't treat the child of her sister like dirt.

Harry sighed heavily as he continued to walk along the pavement while the sky grew dark. He knew he should be glad that Rose's version of the Dursleys weren't as heartless as his had been, but he didn't. He was trying not to remember all the terrible things that had happened under the roof of Number 4. All the times he'd tried to run away from them, only to be returned by either the Police or by a wizard. All the times he'd watched Dudley's birthday being celebrated while his wasn't even acknowledged. All the Christmases where he had merely sat huddled in the corner while the Dursleys exchanged presents. All the times he had been beaten up by Dudley and his friends. All the times he'd been blamed for anything that couldn't be explained. All the times he'd wished he was dead. Even the two or three times he had come so close to ending it all…

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It was all ancient history now. It had been thirteen years, nearly half his life, since he'd left the Dursleys for the last time, but the emotional scars of his life with them still remained. Nothing would ever make him forget, not even the horrors of the Second War and the memories of all the atrocities committed by Voldemort's forces – at least he had shared much of it with his friends before they died. The Dursleys were a different matter. He had never told anyone about everything he had gone through before the age of eleven, especially not the contemplations of suicide. The thought of someone trying to commit suicide at the age of eight, as he had been the first time, would have been incomprehensible to them, so he hadn't told them. None of his friends had ever known. Not even Dumbledore had ever known. He could never bring himself to talk about any of it, ever, and he hated himself for it. He hated everything. Overall, his entire life had been one long miserable story.

It just wasn't fair.

Harry took another deep breath, this time to calm himself down. _Clear your mind of all thoughts, _Harry told himself. _There is no emotion, only control._ For a few minutes, Harry stood there on the corner of Old Market Road before opening his eyes again, now completely calm. Once he'd done that, the blue light pulsed through Harry's body and lit up the surrounding street for a few moments, leaving nothing for those who looked through their curtains to see after it disappeared.


End file.
